


Jaskier and the Elixir of Life

by anarchycox



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Banter, Come play, Crack with Feels, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Group Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic Cock, Name Calling, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Over stimulation, Partner sharing, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, RACK - Freeform, Sex, Spanking, Touch Starved Characters, True Love, and they love him, breath play, but geralt most of all, happiness, jaskier loves all his witchers, just assume characters are going to be pervy and love it, look this is just utter filth with plot and feels, very light pet play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier have been fucking for years, and in a relationship for less years, in love for a few less than that. And when Jaskier points out they've known each other for twenty years, Geralt wonders why Jaskier hasn't aged that much.They learn that sex with a witcher is keeping Jaskier ageless.Geralt is worried though, that maybe he isn't quite enough, to keep Jaskier from aging. He hesitantly suggests that Jaskier maybe winter at Kaer Morhen so that all the witchers can love up and worship him, just to insure his agelessness.Jaskier figures that he can nobly bear up, and endure the suffering of having really gorgeous and powerful men spending five months dedicated to fucking him to near immortality.Just enough plot to make all the sex extra fun.On indefinite hiatus but being it was mostly porn, the lack of a proper ending doesn't really hurt this.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion/Vesemir
Comments: 863
Kudos: 1851
Collections: Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother)





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt pressed Jaskier down every time he arched up. He shouldn’t enjoy the way that Jaskier whined each time, but he did. Because he knew that the begging would start soon and he liked that even more. He thrust into Jaskier and sure enough, “Geralt please, please. I need to move. Please let me move a little. I promise to be good.”

“You promised to stay in camp, while I dealt with the werewolf, what did you do?” His eyes were still black from the potion, and every sound and smell was enhanced. Jaskier reeked of need. Need for movement, need for sex.

Need for Geralt.

It was the only scent that never overwhelmed him, that he reveled in. He pulled out of Jaskier even though it just about killed him, because he wanted to stay buried in his bard, that perfect feel of him around Geralt’s cock. But he wanted more from Jaskier. And he was almost crying at Geralt pulling out of his body. Geralt turned him over onto his back. “What did you do?” Geralt said as he flicked a rock hard nipple. Jaskier shouted in a mix of pain and arousal.

And need.

“You screamed! I followed in case you needed me.”

“To what, sing a werewolf to death?” Geralt snarled. “You could have been hurt. You stay still, so you stay safe.”

Jaskier was crying in need, in desperation but he was also glaring up at Geralt. Geralt could drown in that mix of hunger, love, defiance. Of need. “I will never not come when I hear you scream,” he snarled.

“Well, maybe not coming tonight will teach you a lesson.” Geralt pushed into Jaskier’s body and began to thrust hard. No warm up, no romance. He just fucked into Jaskier as hard as he could, as hard as he needed to burn on the potions. He ignored Jaskier’s cock. Just kept himself up enough that they were barely touching except thighs, and fucking. He snarled when Jaskier reached up to pull him down. “I said no moving, or you really won’t like what happens.”

“Maybe I would,” Jaskier replied with a smirk. Geralt angled his thrust a little more so that his dick was pounding right against Jaskier’s prostate. There was no more talking after that, just Geralt’s breath and grunts, Jaskier’s cries.

Geralt pushed hard, but even in the head space he was in post hunt, he never went too far, and when Jaskier wrapped his legs around him, Geralt didn’t punish or yell. 

Because he needed to feel. The feel of Jaskier’s skin, his words, his scent. And just how good it felt to fuck him. Better than any whore. Jaskier said it was because they loved each other and maybe it was true.

Jaskier was also just the best fuck Geralt had ever had. He pressed in hard and cursed as the orgasm rolled over him. He didn’t collapse against Jaskier, though his arms were shaking a bit. But he wanted to watch. “Touch yourself while I’m still in you,” he rasped. He watched, from above Jaskier as Jaskier wrapped those perfect fingers around his own cock. Often when he told Jaskier to touch himself, Jaskier put on a show, teased until Geralt snapped. But he was too far gone for that. He was almost hurting himself as he chased the orgasm that was so very close. 

Geralt watched that hand over cock, until he knew Jaskier was close. “Don’t move,” he ordered and slowly slid out of Jaskier. 

“You son of a bitch,” Jaskier cried.

Geralt grinned. “Don’t move a muscle,” he ordered and pressed his fingers into Jaskier, feeling the come and oil in him, and began to stroke. He stretched Jaskier, pressed his fingers hard up again the bard’s prostate. “Stay very still for me.” The only thing moving was Jaskier’s chest with each shaky breath that he pulled in. Sex was the only time that Jaskier actually listened to him, and he relished it. Geralt fingered Jaskier, and Jaskier was crying from the strain of not moving. He was so close to breaking. On the very brink.

“Move,” Geralt ordered and pressed his fingers up. 

Two strokes of his cock, and Jaskier was screaming as he spurted all over himself. He looked utterly ruined. 

Geralt wanted him a bit more ruined. 

He was hard again, because the come down from potions always did that and he moved so he was straddling Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier watched him masturbate and his mouth opened wide with a press of Geralt’s thumb. He was coming over Jaskier’s face, and into his mouth not much later. “Did we learn our lesson?” he growled.

Jaksier nodded. “Always follow Geralt into danger.”

Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes. He moved and brought Jaskier in for a cuddle. He shivered as the last of the potion left his system, anchored himself against Jaskier. He could feel Jaskier humming, just as much as he could hear it, his bard soothing him through the last strains of the poison he pumped into himself. Once he was fully himself again, he carefully, oh so gently cleaned off Jaskier. “Fine?” he asked as he pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s jaw. He no longer smelled of need, just blissful contentment.

And Geralt.

Perhaps that was the smell he liked the most.

“Very fine,” Jaskier promised.

“Good,” Geralt said. He stoked the fire a bit. He wouldn’t sleep that night, just meditate but he lay down so that he could hold Jaskier. He kissed Jaskier’s head. “Next time you stay where I put you.”

“Yeah, you keep believing that will happen,” Jaskier snorted.

Geralt swatted his thigh. He kissed Jaskier’s head and prayed maybe one day, Jaskier would actually listen to him outside sex. But he didn’t pray very hard, because he wouldn’t really want to change his foolish bard.

*

“Now then, tomorrow is a very important day and you are not taking a hunt. We will spend our coin on a luxurious room, and have a nice dinner at a real restaurant. When we return to our room, you will present me with this gift, and I will cry in surprise that you remembered, and cry again because of how it is absolutely perfect. Then I will bathe you, because I love doing that, and then you will tie me up to the bed and choke me as you fuck me, because you like that. Any questions?”

Geralt the box that Jaskier thrust into his hand. It was wrapped in beautiful linen. “Why is tomorrow important?”

“Because it is my birthday Geralt,” Jaskier said.

“No it isn’t, your birthday is in 7 weeks.” Geralt frowned at him. “I had plans, why we’ve been heading south to the coast.” Jaskier’s eyes shimmered. “We can go somewhere else?” 

“You had plans for my birthday?” 

“Of course I did,” Geralt tried to push the gift back to him. “Though I didn’t have a gift yet. We are almost broke again. So hold onto that until then. It is better than anything I would have picked.” He did like the rest of the plans though. “We can still tie you up tomorrow night.”

“A given, because as I said it is my birthday.”

“We just established it is in seven weeks.”

“Yes fine, the day of my birth is in seven weeks, but tomorrow is the day of my birth into manhood!” Jaskier waved his arms dramatically.

“You celebrate the first time you fucked?” Geralt shrugged. He supposed there were worse things to celebrate.

“No, you oaf,” Jaskier huffed. “Tomorrow is the anniversary of when we first met and I changed my destiny, birthed Jaskier the renowned bard.”

“Wouldn’t that be an anniversary more than a birthday then?” Geralt asked. He pondered it a bit. “How long ago was that anyways?” Time got a bit funny when it was meaningless to you. “Eight years, a dozen?” Those didn’t feel quite right.

“See, this is why it is important. Twenty years, Geralt. I have spent more of my life knowing you than not.”

“What do you mean?” Geralt frowned and looked at Jaskier carefully. “We’ve known each other for twenty years?”

“We have,” Jaskier beamed at him. “We met when I was eighteen and - and why are you looking at me like that, Geralt?”

Geralt turned Roach around and began to travel back the way they had come. He ignored the cries of “Geralt, where you going? Geralt?” He had spent apparently twenty years listening and tuned it out. Wasn’t like Jaskier wasn’t going to follow. He eventually set up camp for the night and ignored Jaskier’s muttering about his plans. When the fire was high and the stars were higher, Geralt took off Jaskier’s shirt. Geralt nudged and Jaskier lay down with a smile. 

His smile lessened though, because he clearly knew something was different. “Geralt?”

“We met when you were eighteen, and in seven weeks you will be thirty eight.”

“Yes?” Jaskier’s smile was gone and he was frowning.

“Jaskier, why have you barely aged?” Geralt looked at his chest which was more defined than it used to be, their lives making him strong. His face didn’t quite have the same youthful look it had at the start, but it certainly didn’t carry twenty years of hard road on it either. “You say you are going to be thirty eight, but you look twenty eight. No grey in your hair, no lines around your eyes or more so your mouth.” He leaned down and pressed his nose into Jaskier’s next. “Your scent has barely aged.”

“I didn’t…I take care of my skin? My mother looks young for her age.” Jaskier bit his lip. “I’m not a monster,” he swore.

“I know that, but we need to know why,” Geralt said.

“Do we?” Jaskier asked. “Can’t we just stick with I have good genes.”

“It can’t be a curse because the medallion would let me know of magic,” Geralt said more to himself. He kept sniffing at Jaskier. “Can I have some of your blood?”

“Only if it is because your nails dug hard enough in during sex to draw some,” Jaskier snapped.

Geralt smiled at him. “Would you like that, little bard?” He enjoyed the way Jaskier shivered. He pressed himself down on Jaskier. “Let’s see how much.”

*

“It isn’t in his blood. There is no secret fae or elven blood in there,” Triss said as she performed her experiments. They had arrived to consult with her several days ago and they were not finding any answers. “And you never drink anything mysterious?”

Jaskier was clearly growing weary of the questions. “Does Geralt’s come count as mysterious?” he snapped. “Because otherwise it is water, wine, ale, apple juice, and sometimes tea.”

Geralt wondered why Triss sat up, more interested than she had been all morning. “How long?”

“How long what?”

“Have you and Geralt been having sex?” 

“Consistently about 10 years. A handful of times in the five years before that.” Jaskier looked at Geralt, who nodded in agreement. He couldn’t say for sure. It became consistent after he had done that bullshit with the Law of Surprise. They had both continued to fuck other people after that. Until the djinn and Yennefer. That had left a sour taste in both their mouths and after that, unless it was a whore they shared, they had become exclusive. 

Triss was moving stuff around her work table. “Here,” she said. Geralt looked at the small saucer in her hand.

“There,” he nodded.

“No, I need you to come in this. I’ll ready a few other things.” She was cutting plants and mixing things. “I don’t hear a hand on cock!” she trilled. 

“You want me to jack off, right now, right here, in a soup bowl?” Geralt knew sorceresses were mad, but this was a little much.

“No of course not. I need to work, scootch a few feet that way,” she gestured. 

“What the fuck Triss?” Geralt tried to hand her the dish back.

“No, you wanted answers and were fine when it was all about testing me,” Jaskier snapped. “She has studied my blood, piss, spit, palm and burrowed into my brain. You can wank into a soup bowl.”

Geralt huffed but went and leaned against a pillar. He looked over at Triss who winked at him in the mirror by where she was working. “You want a show?” 

“Well, I’ve heard it is a good one.”

“Oh joy.” Geralt supposed sorceresses got together and gossiped just like everyone else.

“Geralt, a third of my songs are about how great a fuck you are,” Jaskier said.

“No they aren’t,” Geralt frowned at him. “They are about -” he paused and properly thought about the lyrics. He seldom did, he didn’t care about the words, just how they made him feel. How it felt to watch Jaskier in his element. He loved watching Jaskier perform, and know that he’d get to take all that happiness up to a room, and make it even happier. “Well, now I believe you owe me for all the inspiration,” Geralt said in a low voice, the one he only used when they were about to fuck. He raised his brows at Jaskier and waited.

He watched Jaskier turn to Triss who just winked. Jaskier grinned and gave her a small bow. “My lady would like a show?” he asked her and Geralt snorted.

“I need the come, however you get it to me is up to you,” she said. “I’m busy working here.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replied. He stood, leaned against the pillar and smiled at Jaskier. “Come along,” he told him.

Jaskier was on his knees in an instant and pulling Geralt’s cock out of his leather trousers. He started with his hands, and Geralt made a noise low in his throat. Fuck, he loved Jaskier’s hands. Smooth palms, rough finger tips, and a strong grip. He sank a hand in Jaskier’s hair. “No teasing, this is for research purposes.”

Jaskier giggled and Geralt was charmed. He was always charmed by his bard. Then Jaskier began to suck his cock, and Geralt grew fully hard in his mouth, making him choke when he was over eager to take all of Geralt. Geralt guided his head, not quite fucking Jaskier’s face, more making sure he didn’t over do it. And there was no reason to rush, not with the way Triss was watching. She had been working hard for them and deserved a show along with the coins they were paying her.

Geralt watched Jaskier as he bobbed his head. Geralt groaned when Jaskier began to work his tongue along Geralt’s cock. He loved that. Jaskier was an amazing cock sucker. “Fuck you do this even better than you play the lute.” Geralt smiled when Jaskier flushed at the praise. He gave more gentle and kind words. Not things he said all the time, he didn’t want to spoil Jaskier anymore than he did. And some days Jaskier preferred filthy, nasty words. But today he deserved all the praise for putting up with all the testing.

Jaskier began to squeeze Geralt’s balls along with the cock sucking and Geralt cursed as the pleasure coursed through him. “Good,” Geralt told Jaskier. “My very good songbird. My bard.” Jaskier loved when Geralt claimed ownership of him. He was possessive of being possessed by Geralt. Geralt began to thrust more into Jaskier’s mouth and he could feel that pressure building. But he hated to leave that perfect mouth. He held off as long as he could, until the last moment and then pulled out and stroked himself off into the bowl. “Take that to Triss.”

Jaskier hurried the bowl over and Triss took it, added it to whatever she was brewing, but also dipping a finger in and tasting some.

“Hey, mine,” Jaskier whined.

“I’m done, you can lick the bowl clean,” she offered.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier said. But his voice was a bit of a squeak. And his eyes kept straying to the bowl.

“I’ll give you more later,” Geralt promised him. “Let Triss do work.” He held open his arms and Jaskier eagerly snuggled in. “Later, I’ll let you swallow as much as you want.”

They leaned there while Triss worked. Eventually she nodded and turned down the flames on the fire. “We have our answer.” She went to a cupboard and brought down a bottle and three glasses. She poured out and passed them both a glass.

“Is it a potion?” Jaskier asked sniffing it.

“Raspberry wine,” she said and raised her glass. “A toast to your immortality, Jaskier.”

“I am immortal?” 

Geralt looked at Jaskier. “No, I would feel that on you.” He said it as gently as he could.

“You are not immortal, but have been made so by external circumstances,” she explained. She drank about half her glass. “What makes life?”

“The gods?” Jaskier asked and she laughed, but not really at him, so Geralt didn’t growl at her. He didn’t take kindly to people making fun of Jaskier. 

“We make life,” she said. “A man and a woman. The woman carries life in her and the man fertilizes it. To be blunt, Geralt is fertilizing you in life.”

“I’m sorry?” Geralt said. “I’m not making him pregnant.” He was pretty sure he would have noticed that at some point.

“No, but your come, it is not human. The mutagens didn’t just change your eyes and strength. They changed you at a fundamental level.”

“They made me sterile, so that makes no sense.” 

“Life can only be denied so much,” she said. “And it seems your body, wants to create life. Only in this instance, that means that it makes Jaskier ageless. To be clear, I highly doubt you’d ever make anyone pregnant, that is too far, too much. Because that is to happen once, the perfect connection.”

“I…are you saying that Geralt has fucked me to the point of immortality?”

“Yes,” Triss smiled at him. “You won’t age so long as you are fucking him.”

“But we’ve fucked a long time, and I have aged. Not much, but I do. I have,” Jaskier protested and it was a good point.

“You said at the start it wasn’t consistent. And generally I would suspect that if you are apart for a few months, then you would begin to age again.”

“We spend winters apart,” Geralt said in dawning horror.

“That would do it. What about five months apart? So in a year, Jaskier probably ages two or three months. For most humans that is a hell of a deal. He’ll live a long time so long as you keep fucking him. And it isn’t just fucking, or rubbing it into his skin. My guess, he needs to swallow a couple times a week for peak results. Based on what I tasted. Also, eat a little more fruit, Geralt to make it taste sweeter in general if he is going to be swallowing that much. Just a suggestion.” Triss finished her wine and blew them a kiss before disappearing from her work room. “Don’t fuck in here, when I gave you a perfectly reasonable bed,” she added.

Geralt stared at Jaskier. He waited.

“You are aware that I am never, ever shutting up about you having not just a metaphorically magic dick, but an actual practical for real magic dick right?”

“I am sure I can make you shut up,” Geralt growled. He was mad. Furious at himself. Them separating for winter had been aging Jaskier. He could keep his bard forever, and he had been the one who insisted Jaskier return to Oxenfurt for winter. Doing so had been killing him. Very very slowly, but technically it had been. He could have been keeping Jaskier completely ageless all this time and hadn’t. He had to make up for that. 

Geralt pulled Jaskier in for a hard kiss. He would change that, he would make it up to Jaskier. He would do whatever, now that he knew that is was possible, to keep his bard. An idea was starting to form in his mind, but it flew away, when Jaskier’s hands were once more on his cock. He’d hopefully remember in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

The first night on the road that Jaskier shivered, Geralt almost panicked. They were creeping ever closer to winter, nights growing cooler. Leaves hadn’t changed colours yet, but it was coming. And that meant the time that they spent apart was coming. The time where Geralt was killing his love was coming. He pressed into Jaskier, more desperate than usual for his bard, and Jaskier met his need easily, and it was rushed and good but not great. 

After he wrapped himself around Jaskier, and thought about the problem.

The five months they spent apart, two or three of those were maybe killing him. And what if Triss had been wrong. She had guessed that Jaskier should swallow a couple times a week, which he was very studiously making sure happened. But if he needed it twice a week, it stands to reason that in fact Jaskier started to age early maybe four months on the two or three. It would explain why in twenty years he aged about ten. They would have more time than most, but that wasn’t enough.

There would never be enough Jaskier. 

Geralt snorted a bit at that thought, considering his opinion of the bard their first few years of travel together.

“You are thinking too much,” Jaskier said. “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Geralt replied and pulled Jaskier even closer which was difficult as they were plastered against each other. Well, they could get a little closer. He moved Jaskier’s legs a bit, and pressed a couple fingers into him. Jaskier’s hyper sensitive whimper as he pressed into the touch was Geralt’s favourite music that he made. He could feel the oil and come making the slide of his fingers nice and smooth and continued to enjoy all the little noises that Jaskier was making. “I’m only thinking of one thing right now.” He pressed Jaskier’s prostate and laughed at the curses that Jaskier shouted at him. 

“You are doing that to distract me from asking you about your feelings.”

“Of course I fucking am,” Geralt nipped at Jaskier’s neck. “Is it working?”

“Of course it fucking is,” Jaskier said and Geralt watched as Jaskier began to stroke his own cock in time to Geralt’s fingering him. They was he was moving against Geralt had him hard again, but hell some days just smelling Jaskier across a tavern was enough to have him hard again. He pulled his fingers out. “More oil?” he asked softly.

“No, just go for it,” Jaskier replied and Geralt carefully pressed in. He used to be nervous about hurting Jaskier, taking too much from him, and sometimes he still worried about it, but he had learned to trust his bard, that if he said he was fine, he was fine. Still, he went slowly, until he sank all the way in. He then stayed, unmoving, and Jaskier began to wiggle. “Uhh, Geralt? Sex requires moving?”

“So move,” Geralt said. He waited, and then Jaskier began to move. “You want it? Take it,” Geralt said, and rolled onto his back. Jaskier was facing away from him, and tossed a wicked look over his shoulder before he started to ride Geralt hard. Geralt didn’t move his hips at all, just settled in to enjoy watching the stretch and roll of Jaskier’s body, the feel of Jaskier around him. This time was much better, the orgasm satisfying, until he remember that Jaskier hadn’t swallowed in a couple days. “Think I can get hard again,” he muttered mostly to himself.

Jaskier pinched his nipple and Geralt flinched a bit. “Geralt, it was a suggestion of hers, when we are together, just fucking however we want will insure I don’t age. I don’t need to swallow your come exactly every three days to stay ageless.”

“But you might,” Geralt protested. “I was killing you Jaskier, by not fucking you enough. I don’t understand how you aren’t mad about this.”

“Geralt, you weren’t killing me, I was just aging, at what 1/3rd of the rate of the average human?” Jaskier was petting him, like he did when he thought Geralt was tense. “You weren’t killing me.”

“But I can do more,” Geralt said. He thought about it. “I’ll winter at Oxenfurt with you.” He’d only hate it completely, but for not killing Jaskier it would be worth it. “Is it…very crowded?”

“Very,” Jaskier agreed. “And a bit smelly.”

If Jaskier found it a bit smelly, that meant it would offend him horrifically. “But winter everyone is huddled inside, nice and quiet?” Geralt was hopeful.

“Nope, gets really loud.”

“I’ll love it,” Geralt tried to smile. 

“You would hate every second, it is why we spend winters apart.” Jaskier kissed his jaw. “Not like you are going to invite me to that inner sanctum of the witcher lair in winter.” Jaskier laughed a bit, and Geralt thought it was a sad sound.

But it was a good idea. Or it was the start of a good idea. But he needed to think about it, and send a raven. He grunted and knew Jaskier was taking that for agreement with him, but Geralt didn’t want to say anything just yet. They were traveling north anyways, if they veered a bit Jaskier likely wouldn’t notice.

*  
Two weeks later they were in a town, and the weather was decidedly turning towards late fall. “We’ll stay here for a bit,” Geralt told him.

“Sure,” Jaskier said. “Nice last hurrah before we go our separate ways.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. “Go get us a room.” Their purse was light, but Jaskier would fill it out. The last fall harvests had happened and everyone was wringing their last bit of enjoyment before being stuck for winter. He went through the village and asked for the local mage, hoped there was one. There was a kitchen witch and that was better than nothing. He went to the home and asked about getting a message to Kaer Morhen either via raven or magic, and received one in return. 

“I can send a message on water. Write it on this paper,” she said and handed him supplies. “A couple sentences at most.”

Geralt thought about it, before he wrote:

_Jaskier winter at keep? Is life or death._

That should suffice and it was the truth. She put the paper in the water and the words slid off and into the water, sinking as whole words not wet ink. They sat at the bottom of the bowl and he watched them, slowly reform into one word.

_Fine_

“My thanks,” he told the witch and paid her a bit extra for the trouble. He traveled to the inn with a lighter heart than he remembered having. Jaskier was already singing, and he went to sit in the corner. He listened, almost smiling. Permission had been given for Jaskier to go to the keep for the winter. He could stop hurting Jaskier with his absence and keep him ageless.

Triss had said he needed it, and Geralt wanted Jaskier to have everything he needed. Sex day and night, make sure Jaskier swallows plenty.

But then he had a thought. There were times when the work at the keep was hard and he was exhausted. Or he sparred with Eskel and would collapse happy and exhausted. Nights where he had been too tired to even wank, and he didn’t want to do that.

He couldn’t shirk his duties to the keep, and he didn’t want to give up practice time with his brethren.

But he didn’t want to kill Jaskier, when the whole point of bringing him to the keep was keeping him alive.

There had to be a solution. He was mulling it over Jaskier came and sat next to him. Soon food and ale was in front of him as well, because Jaskier always made sure he ate. “I sometimes am too tired to fuck,” Geralt said. “We need a solution for that.”

Jaskier’s mug paused half way to his mouth. “I…sure? Wait, are you currently having sex when you don’t want to? Because I don’t like that.”

“No, in winter. When we play, I mean train, it can be all day and then I’m too tired to fuck. Or if we have to move stones or such. And that is a problem. How do we fix it?”

“Geralt, have you been having a conversation with me in your head, and forgotten to have it with actual me?” Jaskier asked, “Because you do that sometimes.”

“I do?”

“You do, usually when you want to ask me for something but are worried I’ll be scared or say no. Which I pretty much never do. So what kinky thing are you thinking, dear heart?” Jaskier leaned forward. “You know what? We haven’t bought a whore together in a while, that could be fun.”

Geralt felt everything slot into place in his mind. “My brothers and I should all fuck you all winter long!” The barmaid spilled the ale she was bringing all over the table. “Oh, that sounded wrong,” Geralt nodded to her. “My brothers and I should make love to him all winter long.”  
  
“Actually I generally do prefer the word fuck when we are referencing a gang bang, my dear, but I think she is more upset about the brothers comment, not realizing you mean brothers in arms, not blood kin.” Jaskier smiled and smoothly slipped a couple of coins into her apron. “And we’ll keep any more conversation for when we are in our room.”

That was a fair point. Geralt smiled at her and she hurried away, which fine. More ale didn’t come along though, which was less fine. “Are you singing more tonight?”

“No, I do believe we need to have a long conversation,” Jaskier said.

“I don’t love those.”

“Yes well, you will endure because you said a crazy thing and we are talking about it.”

“Can we have the conversation while we fuck?”

“No, because I tend not to be able to think when we fuck. But I will make it worth your while if you converse properly.”

That was fair, Geralt decided and headed upstairs, not that he exactly knew where their room was, but soon Jaskier slid in front and guided him to the room. A decent size small bed, but large bath, already full of water. He cast ignii and quickly stripped. He sat in the water and sighed happily. He crooked a finger with his eyes still closed. “I’ll talk better with hands in my hair.”

“Oh, will you?” Geralt could hear Jaskier’s eye roll but then also footsteps and soon a comb was working through his hair. “Now, Geralt. We do need to talk about how you seem to have heard something very different from Triss than what she said. Because I am barely aging.”

“But you are aging, which means you will eventually be old to travel and you love it, and we have a way to keep you ageless. And you are a cock slut,” Geralt said and winced. “I mean you are a very loving and touch craving individual.” Geralt waited for the bit of a hair tug that sometimes happened when Jaskier was frustrated with him, but instead warm water was poured on and soap began to be worked through his hair. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jaskier said. “I say that, Triss said that, but your stupid huge heart has gotten all mixed up with your sadly small brain, and now you have worked yourself up.”

Geralt was quiet. Usually he’d pull Jaskier into the tub for that insult, because he had a perfectly normal sized brain thank you, not everyone needed to carry around as many words in their head as Jaskier did. But he was far too distracted with his concerns to play. “Jaskier, please,” he said.

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier sighed. “Hold on.” Water poured over his hair, and he could hear clothing coming off and then Jaskier was in his lap. “You are scared.”

Geralt nodded. “I am, because I have the chance to keep you, and I’ve been letting that slip away. I sent word to the keep. You are welcome this winter with me.”

“What if I like winter in Oxenfurt with friends and colleagues? People gathering to write music, and share thoughts?”

“Eskel wrote a poem about his goats once.”

Geralt enjoyed the way Jaskier started to laugh so much that if Geralt wasn’t holding him he would have slid under the water. He began to wash Jaskier’s hair. “I know we are a small group, and you are used to company in winter, but we’d have time together. Time that didn’t involve camping, or monsters. Plus,” he thought he had a good enticement, “there is a huge library at the keep. Books that no one has seen in hundreds of years, all for you to read.” Geralt could see that intrigued him, and there were a few other enticements. “The wine and mead cellar has tastes you can only dream of,” he whispered. “The furs on my bed, you’ve never felt softer. I would spend the whole winter focused on you, worshipping you. You’d spend days in bed not wanting to move. Unless it was to the natural hot springs below the keep. Hot bath every single day, Jaskier.” He rinsed Jaskier’s hair and then kissed him hard. The kisses grew and they left the tub, not bothering to dry off and rutted against each other until they were enough of a mess to get back into the tub.

“Why do you want your brothers to fuck me, Geralt?” Jaskier asked. 

Geralt had his arms around Jaskier, Jaskier’s back to his chest. “Because I want you ageless, with me always.”

“What if they don’t want to fuck me?”

“I would never force them,” Geralt said swiftly. “But uhhh, well. I’ve talked about how good a fuck you are. A lot. Apparently a disturbing amount, enough that they have fucked their own hands to thoughts of you.”

“Have you fucked them?” Jaskier was clearly curious.

“I have,” Geralt said. “Not in a few winters because of us.” He wouldn’t mention how it had hurt to watch Eskel and Lambert enjoying each other and not participating because of promises to Jaskier.

“Oh, dear heart, you were hurting and never told me?” 

“It was fine.” Geralt said. “But think, if we all take care of you all winter, it would help build up your agelessness. And think, a whole winter spent being fucked as much as you want by several witchers. Who want nothing more than to take you apart and make you sort of immortal.” He hoped he was selling the idea to Jaskier well. He knew it would be an easy enough sell for Eskel and Lambert when the time came. “Please let me and my brothers spend all winter fucking you as much as you can stand.”

“I need to think,” Jaskier said. “On one hand Oxenfurt. Colleagues, music, simpatico people who understand literature and music, and not being in the most northern mountains on the continent in a keep that has seen battle and has permanent and eternal damage. With four people for company, none of whom have any artistic inclinations.”

“Yes,” Geralt agreed. He pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s shoulder. It was foolish, there was no way Jaskier would want it that. He was about to offer to stay in Oxenfurt but Jaskier was smelling amused.

“But the flip side is that three of those men who are all built like titans, have magic dicks, and if they are anything like you touch starved and needing of a good bard to take care of them, spending the whole winter fucking me raw, and me getting to watch them train and fuck each other?”

“I know it is a difficult decision,” Geralt said. There had to be more that he could say to sweeten the pot. 

“As you said I am a very loving and touch craving individual. Geralt, you are lucky I haven’t already climbed out of this tub and started climbing to Kaer Morhen right now.”

Geralt laughed against Jaskier’s skin. “Cock slut.”

“Are all the cocks as good as yours?”

“Eskel is a bit bigger,” Geralt admitted. He bit Jaskier’s shoulder to hold him in place, because it did seem that his beloved bard was indeed ready to start walking to the keep. “We’ll be there in a few weeks,” he reassured Jaskier. “And then we shall see what happens.”


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt hugged Jaskier close, in front of their small fire. “Tomorrow we’ll make the keep,” he promised. He would have today but the path was a difficult one and Jaskier could hurt himself in the dark. They were just on the side of the path, not much wind break, burning some scrub and a few branches. The air was cold, and Geralt could smell snow on the air. He reached into his pack and found the absurd hood that he wore when things were hunting him from overheard. He put it on Jaskier’s head. “That will help.”

“It smells like your hair. And bird shit.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. He looked over to Roach who seemed fine. She knew the path well. He leaned against the rock behind him, vaguely aware of the cold feel of it, but knowing it was no danger to him. He made sure the blanket covered Jaskier as much as it could, adjusted the hood a bit. “There. We’ll travel at first light. Tomorrow, food fire. A nice bed to fuck you in.”

“We have had sex in four days, Geralt,” Jaskier whined.

“I know, and you are worried about dying,” Geralt felt dreadful, but the way to Kaer Morhen was just too dangerous for the distraction of fucking.

“No, I just miss your dick,” Jaskier replied and borrowed in more. “I’m cold. Warm me up.”

Geralt had no idea what else he could do. “Press your hands in under my armor.” Cold fingers were against his skin and Jaskier was almost purring. Geralt held him close. “Do you know what I am going to do to you tomorrow night, when we have no worries of time, temperature, threat?”

“What?” Jaskier asked against his chest. “Tell me,” he pressed when Geralt stayed silent, and Geralt smirked a bit.

“I have a huge bed,” Geralt began slowly, to build the moment, also because he didn’t really have a clue what to say. Jaskier loved when he talked about what he wanted to do to Jaskier, but it was a difficult task. It was just so many words, and what if he said the wrong thing, because he wanted to do so much to the bard. Not that the bard had ever said no to anything Geralt had asked of him. But still he always held back a little of himself, scared that he would finally make Jaskier fear him.

That his wants of his human were too monstrous.

So many years of holding just a bit back.

But maybe at the keep, he could let go. “I want to tie you up,” Geralt continued. “Not just a little, like we’ve done in inns. I want to tie you up so that you cannot move, hands and feet lashed to the bed.” Geralt took a deep breath. “Around your torso too. You’ll be able to move your head, arch your hips a bit, but that is it.” He waited but Jaskier wasn’t flinching away. Maybe he could say everything. “But that isn’t enough, I want to gag you.” Fuck, he wanted to gag Jaskier so badly but had never suggested it. 

Geralt was always scared that Jaskier would think the gag was to shut him up, that Geralt was sick of his voice, but he just thought Jaskier would look so fucking gorgeous like that, and how good the whimpers and cries would sound against the cloth. He said that, wanting Jaskier to understand, and Jaskier gave the smallest nod against his chest, so Geralt continued. “Blindfolded too. I want you completely helpless, little songbird. And do you know what else I would bind?”

“What’s left?” Jaskier asked.

“Your cock, so you couldn’t come.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier whispered.

He had gone too far. “I’m sorry,” Geralt said. “It is just words it doesn’t -”

“If you stop talking I will slide a knife into your ribs,” Jaskier snarled. Geralt felt Jaskier tugging at his hand until it was pressed against Jaskier’s pants where he was hard. “Tell me everything,” Jaskier demanded.

Geralt had been so focused on his worries that he had missed how aroused Jaskier smelled. He smiled a bit. “I would have you there, bound, trapped, you wouldn’t tell me to hurry up, or say all that filth you do when I fuck into you. I wouldn’t even be able to see your eyes begging me to hurry up, to let you tip over. Instead I could just enjoy your body. Work you open slowly, watch your cock fill, watch you ache when you hit the point where my fingering would make you come, but you can’t because you are so tied up. I’d bite you everywhere rope wasn’t, play with your nipples until even just air against them hurts. Do you know how long it would be until I fucked into you Jaskier, when I can play with you to my heart’s content?” Geralt growled a little at the thought. “And then we would really begin to play.”

“Because that wasn’t playing?” Jaskier squeaked and the way he was squirming was filling Geralt’s cock as well, but they were not going to do anything about it in the cold, on the side of the road. It was a delightful torture.

“No the playing would be when I let my brothers in, and you can’t tell which of us is touching you, fucking into you,” Geralt whispered. “The only time the gag would be removed from your mouth would be so one of us could choke you on our dick. I know you love my cock in your throat, Jaskier. But we don’t do it a lot because you have to sing for work. But at the keep you don’t have to worry about that. We could all take turns fucking your face, while you are completely bound and helpless. Hmm, one of us fucking your face, one fucking your ass, the other waiting to switch off. How much could we pour down your throat, push into you before you can’t take anymore. How sore would your cock be, how full your balls from hours of this never being allowed to come? Until I am the last one in you and untie your pretty and aching cock. You would come right away, and you probably wouldn’t even enjoy it much, so overwhelmed. But I would. I would love to see you wrecked like that little songbird. Just perfectly broken by us, but still wanting more.”

Jaskier whimpered and Geralt went very still. He quieted and held Jaskier. He waited. But there was no response. “Jaskier?” he said after a bit.

“I am mad at you,” Jaskier said.

“Because it is too much?” Geralt was hesitant because he knew what Jaskier smelled like when he was mad, and he definitely did not smell like that right now. Geralt tilted his head down and breathed in a bit. Jaskier smelled close to orgasm. It was the best scent, Geralt’s favourite. Almost favourite. He liked best when Jaskier smelled replete and of Geralt. 

“Because you’ve been hiding a part of yourself from me,” Jaskier replied. He tilted his head up but in the hood, Geralt couldn’t see his face. “Because that is just the start isn’t it? Of everything you’ve been holding back isn’t it?”

Geralt nodded a little. “We were taught,” Geralt began slowly, “We were taught to tame our hungers, quiet them. Just enough, is more than good enough.”

“It isn’t, it really isn’t,” Jaskier was no longer just warming his hands against skin, but hugging him as tightly as he could. 

“I know, you’ve been teaching me that. Unteaching lessons that decades of living had ingrained in me.” Geralt kissed the hood on his head. “At home, in winter, we let go with each other.”

“Except you haven’t, because you hadn’t wanted to be disloyal to me,” Jaskier sighed, “I wish you had told me, I wouldn’t have minded.”

Geralt knew, mostly, but it was all a jumble too. “I wanted them,” he agreed, “so much, but it also would have been wrong without you. And now I can have all that. I can have what I want?” He hated that it was a question, that he was unsure enough to just claim. 

“I mean not the first night, I would rather like to be fucked by them, fairly simply the first few times?” Jaskier said. “Give me…2 weeks, then we can start really playing. But only on one condition.”

“Whatever,” Geralt agreed immediately, “Everything, anything.”

“No more hiding? I might not agree to everything you want, but Geralt it is me, I am likely to agree to 90% of it, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m rather obsessed with you and what you do to me. But at your home, if you keep yourself distant, I will never sit in your lap and cuddle you again.”

“I don’t need cuddling,” he automatically grumbled. He felt Jaskier start to pull away and held him fast. “You’ll get cold if you don’t hug me,” was the excuse he offered.

“Mmhmm,” Jaskier snorted a bit. “Geralt?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me more about what you want.”

Geralt closed his eyes and spoke until Jaskier drifted off, secret words spilling out, comforted that his bard wasn’t scared or running away. There was no running away, there was just heading home.

*

“It’s rather…”

“It is better than it looks,” Geralt reassured him.

“It’d have to be,” Jaskier whispered.

Geralt just looked at him. “I did hear that, you know.”

“I do,” Jaskier nodded and looked at it. “Well, maybe it is better on the inside.”

Geralt snorted because it was and wasn’t. But he banged on the keep door and Vesemir let them in. He lead Jaskier through into the front courtyard. “Vesemir, may I present -”

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount of Lettenhove, Jaskier the bard, friend to all, lover to Geralt of Rivia, the white wolf, at your eternal service.”

Geralt watched him give a courtly bow. Formal Jaskier was always so weird. 

“Geralt said your being here was a matter of life or death.”

“For fuck’s sake, Geralt, will you quit it with that?” When Jaskier smacked him, it didn’t hurt in the least. “I’m not dying, it is just…” Geralt enjoyed the way that Jaskier flushed. “I cannot tell your father, Geralt.”

“He is our sword master, I never knew my father,” Geralt looked at Vesemir. Vesemir was looking back. He shrugged. Jaskier got oddly sentimental at times. “If I don’t fuck him a lot he will get old and die. My dick makes him ageless. So winters away were killing him. He is now here so the lack of sex doesn’t kill him. Gonna have Lambert and Eskel come down his throat too, just to be extra sure Jaskier stays ageless because I love him.” Geralt smiled at Jaskier. “See, life or death.”

Jaskier just hung his head. “Hello, sir. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Geralt’s dick stops the aging process,” Vesemir said very slowly.

“Well technically the spend,” Jaskier was bright red as he said this. “Our friend Triss explained, mutagens, start of life, etc etc. And while she loves jokes and pranks, she knows Geralt would get huffy if it was a prank about my life. So we can accept this as fact. I tried to explain to him, that I got enough…elixir of life -”

“We are not calling my come the elixir of life,” Geralt interjected because that felt a bit wrong. 

“That he fucked me enough in the spring, summer, and fall, that a couple months of aging was fine,” Jaskier was glaring at him and it was the look that always made Geralt want to push the bard to his knees. Vesemir was smirking at him like he could read Geralt’s thoughts. Geralt grumbled a bit. “It was fine, Geralt.”

“No it isn’t. He was killing you,” Vesemir said.

Geralt sagged in relief. “Thank you, someone understands.”

“Are you where he gets this from?” Jaskier groaned. “Aging three months in a year is a good bargain!”

“Not when there could be no aging,” Vesemir replied. “Work still has to be done, to prepare for winter, Geralt. He may have to have a week or two of aging.”

“No, see this is the smart part of the plan,” Geralt said, eager to impress his mentor. “Because Lambert and Eskel can fuck him too! Yes I had extra mutagens which probably help the ageless factor, but still they have to have some as well, so even though there is work to be done and then playing…training,” he corrected swiftly. “That is three of us, to keep him just covered.”

“Oh?” Vesemir was sizing Jaskier up. “Just the three of you?”

“Wait, you’d be willing to help too?” Geralt had honestly not considered that. Because Vesemir didn’t play with them, still too used to viewing them as students. But he was looking at Jaskier with interest, because how could you not? He was gorgeous and never smelled of fear around witchers. “Because I’m fine with that, anything to keep my songbird with me forever.”

Jaskier cleared his throat. “Remember, we ask me if I am fine with it?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry,” Geralt scratched his neck a bit. “I just figured you were all happy about three, adding one more to your list wouldn’t bother you.”

Geralt watched Vesemir go over and wrap a hand around Jaskier’s neck; the sword master leaned in and pressed his mouth against Jaskier’s mouth. “When you tire of what the eager pups do to you, you may come see me and I’ll show you a few new things.” Vesemir stepped back. “Your brothers will be home soon enough. Tend to the stables, Geralt.”

“Yes, sir,” Geralt nodded. He turned to Jaskier who was looking a little dazed. “All good?”

“Fuck, I had forgotten how delicious older men could be,” Jaskier was swaying a little.

“I’m over one hundred,” Geralt pointed out.

Jaskier sort of waved a hand in the air. “Yes but you don’t read as ‘older’ do you? I mean not like him. He reminds me of my crush on my father’s advisor. First cock I sucked. Mmmmmm.”

Geralt was a little not into Jaskier making his sexy yummy voices about Vesemir, because yes he perhaps did consider Vesemir as a paternal figure. But also, keep Jaskier alive. Hmm. “No group fuck with Vesemir, because that would be weird for me.”

“I’m fine with that, but if I wanted?”

“Go forth, and be fucked!” Geralt said decisively. “But not right now, we have work to do.” They took Roach to the stables, and Geralt did put Jaskier to work prepping stalls and once they had that finished, Geralt took Jaskier to their room. He opened the door and gestured in. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

Jaskier was looking around and Geralt tried to see it through his eyes. It was spartan, for a space that was lived in for months at a time. But comfortable. 

“No bath?”

“Below the keep, several hot spring pools, no individual baths.”

“Could we go see?” 

Geralt smiled at him. “We can,” he agreed. He brought Jaskier down below, pressed on the stones that were imbued with magic to glow so that smoke wouldn’t be trapped with them.

“Fuck that is a prettier sight than your dick,” Jaskier said in awe.

Geralt would have protested but Jaskier was stripping down, and when he got to see all that pretty skin, he tended to ignore whatever Jaskier was saying. He stripped down as well and soon they were in the water. It did feel good, minerals and magic combining to soothe aches, be hot but not too hot. He went below, coming up to Jaskier wrapping him in an embrace.

Soon they were kissing, which lead to groping, which lead to Geralt realizing they needed to make sure the baths were stocked with a few other important supplies. But there had to be something in the cupboard by the benches that would do. He pried Jaskier off him, which took a fair bit of work and went to see if there was a suitable oil. Then he heard running.

Vesemir would not be running down to the baths.

But his brothers would, and it was definitely more than one set of steps. He stood there naked half hard and waited. Eskel and Lambert came through the door, shouting greetings. They both froze. “Umm, hale and well met?” Eskel said, gaze torn between Geralt’s cock and Jaskier who was in the water and waving. “We’ll just go.”

“No we fucking won’t,” Lambert grumbled. “I’ve had a shit journey home and I am getting in the water.” He started stripping down. “It’s just Geralt’s dick, who the hell cares?”

“They were clearly about to do something,” Eskel hissed. “It would be rude.”

“There are three pools, they can go to one of them,” Lambert said.

“Or, you could?” Geralt suggested, more amused than upset. He looked over and Jaskier’s eyes were gleaming. He certainly did not object to the looks of the other wolves, that was clear to Geralt. Geralt put the oil away, because it was clear they weren’t going to be fucking right that moment. He went over to Eskel and pressed their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

Eskel sort of grunted but for a moment clasped Geralt tightly before he let go, eyes moving over to Jaskier. “It is just -”

“Please tell me I can watch you two fuck,” Jaskier begged.

“I…”

“Only if you are good, and likely you’ll have to be riding Lambert’s cock while you watch.”

“He’ll have to do what?” Lambert growled. 

Geralt slid into the water and put an arm around Jaskier. “This is Jaskier, the love of my life, my everything. Because I love him, and want him to live a long and vaguely unnatural life, we have to spend all winter fucking him to our heart’s content. So, please, for any feelings of brotherhood and friendship you have for me - promise me you fuck Jaskier raw. Also make him swallow a lot. That is super important. Otherwise he will die.” Geralt watched Eskel fall into the pool, still dressed. “With all those clothes on, he’s going to drown. Should help him.” But Geralt was rather comfortable, “Lambert, you are closer.”

“No,” Lambert scowled and sat on the bench.

“Melitele save me,” Jaskier said and went to help Eskel. Geralt watched Jaskier dive below and tug Eskel’s boots off and throw them out of the water. Soon between the both of them Eskel was nude. “Hello, I’m Jaskier.”

“Eskel.”

Jaskier was moving Eskel’s wet hair off his face, and Geralt watched Eskel try to pull away, wanting to shift to hide the scars. But he knew his bard, and sure enough Jaskier was kissing the scars. “You don’t have to fuck me if you don’t want, or we can get to know each other first.”

“I’ll fuck you,” Lambert offered. “You need a decent dicking if you’ve been just been dealing with Geralt.” 

Geralt went over and tried to drown his brother. They were splashing and hitting each other, and both keeping an eye on Jaskier and Eskel, Geralt ready to protect Jaskier, Lambert to protect Eskel.

“Will us fucking you keep you alive?” Eskel asked.

“Yes but despite what my dear heart says, it is not life of death, it is just that witcher come makes me ageless, and Geralt would prefer I be with him as long as possible.”

Eskel nodded. “I need to think about it.”

“Of course,” Jaskier promised.

Geralt smiled. Because that meant yes, Eskel just needed time to get used to the idea. And he had enough ‘emotional intelligence’ as Jaskier yammered about, to know a change in topic was needed. He asked them about their journey home, moving over to pull Jaskier gently away from Eskel to give him space. Geralt had an arm around Jaskier and was pleased with the way Lambert and Eskel looked at him.

This was the best idea he had ever had.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i thought it was time we had some jaskier pov and feels sneaked into all the crack.

Jaskier felt a bit awkward. His wolf had a possessive arm around him, and the other three were across the table watching them. “Let’s go over this one more time,” Jaskier said. “I am not dying.” He really was trying to get that through their heads.

“Yes you are,” Geralt growled, and Jaskier sighed when Lambert grunted an agreement.

“No, I am not.”

“You are fundamentally human though, correct?” Vesemir asked. Vesemir had been mostly silent during the dinner just watching him, and it had been a bit unnerving, like he was judging Jaskier and Jaskier was clearly being found wanting. But there was also just enough interest and heat in the gaze that it made Jaskier want to shiver. He had always had a thing for older knights when he had been younger. All that strength and steadiness, the shoulders; older knights all had goddamn shoulders like buildings and he just wanted to be pressed down with them. 

And all the witchers were looking at him a bit differently now. “You can’t read my thoughts, can you?” Jaskier looked at Geralt. “You would have said at any point if you could. Because you would have made fun of me.”

“We can smell them,” Lambert stated. “You were looking at Vesemir, and were clearly thinking about bending over the table and letting him rail you right here and now.” 

“To be fair, that was not my actual thought,” Jaskier huffed and stuck out his tongue at Lambert. “It was more of a romantic, general musing.”

“Beside no fucking in the dining hall,” Vesemir said. “That rule isn’t changing just because you brought the lad home.”

Oh, that stern glare Vesemir gave his pups was definitely switching Jaskier’s thoughts from the romantic ones to the one Lambert had suggested. And from the snicker Lambert gave, Jaskier thought he knew it. “Focus, lad, then someone will take care of you. You have no fae, siren, succubus, or elven blood, correct?”

Jaskier was for a moment distracted by the thought of someone, because well they were a very distracting group. But then Vesemir gave him that stern look and he automatically sat up straight, ignoring the way that Geralt was clearly snickering. “No, sir, as far as I am aware, I’m the only person in my family’s history for a predilection for…” how to phrase it.

“Being a slut,” Geralt offered, oh so helpfully.

“No, dear heart, I come from a long line of sluts and reprobates, I meant a predilection for those of an alternate nature.”

“You’re a monster fucker,” Lambert said. “I met a few of those. They are always fun in bed.”

“Not like I’m out there climbing a drowner saying fuck me you nasty thing you,” Jaskier snapped at him. “And you aren’t monsters.” He was getting wound up, because no one was able to say a thing against his wolf. “You have certain unique features, but last I checked you don’t eat people, curse villages, destroy the world. Not monsters.” He leaned forward a bit and then felt Geralt’s hand on his neck, soothing him. “Don’t call yourselves monsters. I don’t let other people do it, and you aren’t allowed to either. Took me fucking forever to get Geralt to stop that shit. I am not going through that process again. Putting my foot down, wolves, no calling yourselves monsters or freaks, or mutants, or whatever. Or you’ll be in for it.” Jaskier nodded sure they were quite cowed by the threat.

They didn’t exactly look cowed, but he knew they were deep inside.

“He means he won’t let you play with his pretty body if you are mean to yourself. Once got cut off for a bloody month because I suggested idly I didn’t have a soul. Worst damn month of my life, and that is including the time I had to push my intestines back in and hold them in place for a couple days.”

Now they looked suitably cowed. Jaskier nodded and returned to the question at hand. “As far as I know, I have fully human blood.”

“Which means fundamentally that Geralt is correct. You are mortal and therefore dying. It is the nature of life, lad, and cannot be denied. Unless of course we deny it.”

“See, I am right,” Geralt sounded way too pleased with himself, and Jaskier elbowed him, because he wasn’t right he was being dramatic, and that was Jaskier’s job. He had written it out for the man to remind him, when he got too him. Pinned it to the inside of the man’s cloak for fuck’s sake. Geralt’s job: kill monsters, brood, glare, have the best dick ever, catch and clean food for them to eat. Jaskier’s job: sing, get more money from the people hiring Geralt, be the reason Geralt gets up in the morning, take the best dick ever like a hero, praise the food that has been caught and cleaned.

“Fine, yes I am dying, but very very slowly thanks to you,” Jaskier said. “And while you can phrase it however you want, saying that if your brothers and your mentor don’t fuck me, I’ll die is putting too much pressure on them. It makes it an obligation not a desire, and that isn’t fun, Geralt. That is not fair to them. It is force isn’t it?” He watched Geralt’s eyes widen and horror, and the poor man almost whimpered at the thought that he was hurting his brothers. And then Lambert and Eskel made upset noises because Geralt was upset and Jaskier quickly looked to Vesemir. “Fix it,” he pleaded.

“All of you calm down. Acting like you are pups again. Geralt, Jaskier is right. I know you want your lad to be with you always, but your spend has clearly been working, and you don’t have to force your brothers to have sex with him to keep him alive for you. Jaskier, it is time for you to stop as well.”

“What did I do?” Jaskier frowned. “I’m being reasonable.”

“Wolves mate for life, lad, and you are Geralt’s mate. When you dismiss his fears, you are causing him pain. Because to you a slower march of mortality seems incredible, but to him it still suggests you leaving him, and now that you have awoken his heart he cannot image a worse suffering than you not next to him when he could have stopped it.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said quietly. Having it phrased like that made it all different. He looked at Geralt who was very thoroughly studying a tapestry that he would have stared at thousands of times. “Geralt?”

“Hmm,” was all his said, which was a confirmation of what Vesemir just said.

“I’ll take this more seriously,” Jaskier promised. “I’m still not going to say you are killing me by not fucking me, because that sounds insane, but I’ll stop actively denying it.” Geralt was still not looking at him. Jaskier kissed his jawline. “Geralt.” Finally the man relaxed.

“Ugh, fucking romantic shit,” Lambert groaned. “Save me.” He looked to Vesemir. “What are the rules then? Because I’ll fuck him. I don’t feel like I’m being forced to, I’m curious if he is as good as Geralt has bragged.”

Jaskier looked at Geralt. “You really have been talking me up in the winters?” Geralt just shrugged. “I love you,” Jaskier said and curled into him a bit. He smiled as he was pulled onto Geralt’s lap. “Thank you, Lambert for agreeing to fuck me all winter.”

“Eh, I said once. Doubt you’ll interest me longer than that,” Lambert shrugged. “Humans aren’t good for more than that. Rather stick with them.”

Jaskier glared at him, because the man did not just question Jaskier’s skills in bed. “I will fucking destroy you,” Jaskier snapped. 

“I want to court you,” Eskel blurted out.

That was rather unexpected. “Umm,” Jaskier looked up at Geralt who was getting ready to snarl and be all possessive. “That - Vesemir?”

“Use your words, Eskel, and Geralt you use your ears,” Vesemir said with a sigh. “No overreacting. We listen first.”

“Yes sir,” they both said, and Jaskier absolutely didn’t find that adorable.

“I know he is yours,” Eskel said. “I’m not looking to…fight your claim.”

“You’d lose,” Geralt snarled.

“Geralt,” Vesemir snapped, “That will be running the wall thrice tomorrow.”

Fuck, Jaskier really wanted that voice ordering him about. And the look Vesemir gave him suggested the old witcher knew it. 

“But it is different than just releasing tension on the path, Geralt. This is your mate, and I can’t think of him as a random fuck like Lambert. He is special.”

“Eh-” Lambert shrugged.

Well, that was that, Jaskier thought. He was not surprised when he was gently removed from Geralt’s lap and Geralt vaulted across the table, and tackled Lambert. He watched them roll around on the ground and punch each other. There was lots of grumbling and cursing, and Eskel was clearly torn between being the oldest brother and behaving, and wanting to play. When Geralt was flung into Eskel’s chair, Eskel growled a bit.

“I just meant I wanted to talk to him a little before I fucked his face!” Eskel roared and joined the brawl on the ground. 

Jaskier watched them all scrap. “Tear a shirt, someone tear a shirt open, do not care which one,” he cheered them on.

“Lad, don’t encourage them,” Vesemir said once again in that stern voice that made Jaskier think very specific thoughts. “Come here, Jaskier,” Vesemir ordered.

Jaskier hurried around the table and stood in front of him, spine straight, ready to be yelled at for causing a ruckus. But he was pulled down onto Vesemir’s lap. He wasn’t as big as Geralt, it felt different but also really nice. Especially when Vesemir began to rub soothing circles at the base of his spine. That felt really nice actually. Where he carried most of his tension, and he sort of collapsed into Vesemir. “I cannot wait to have you in my room, lad, warming my cock.”

“Eep,” was all Jaskier could say. 

“Eep what?”

Jaskier was gonna die. He thought about the older soldiers in Lettenhove that he had always wanted. Only had a couple of them. “Eep, sir,” he whispered.

“Good lad.” Vesemir kept rubbing those circles, but his hand had slid under his doublet, just the shirt between them. He was so damn hot, seemed all witchers were. “Once a week, you’ll come up to my rooms, and we’ll see what happens.”

“Just once a week, sir?” Jaskier looked at him. The man’s hair was grey from age, not mutations, and there were deep grooves around his eyes, from centuries of seeing too much. Jaskier cupped his cheek and along along his jaw. “I could have more?”

“You’ll have what I say and not be a brat about it, or you’ll be taken over my knee.”

“Guaranteed that will make him act like a brat,” Geralt said from the floor. Jaskier looked over and realized that they had stopped fighting and were watching Jaskier and Vesemir. “Eskel is allowed to court you a little bit, because that will make him happy.” Geralt nuzzled Eskel’s neck and they were so damn cute. Especially when Eskel ducked into Geralt.

“Now then, are we all paying attention?” Vesemir asked and his fingers slipped under Jaskier’s shirt and the touch of his rough fingers on the sensitive skin there was electric.

“Not really, sir,” Jaskier had to admit. He whined when the hand went away.

“Geralt, collect your lad for right now,” Vesemir ordered and Jaskier held out his arms and snuggled into Geralt’s embrace. “Fine then. My rules. No sex in this room. We eat in here, and no one needs to see that while they are trying to have stew.” He was clearly waiting for agreement and Jaskier nodded, so did the wolves. “Good boys,” Vesemir praised and Jaskier knew he wasn’t the only one to react to those words, though he reaction was slightly different than theirs. “Jaskier gets a day of rest once a week. Because with everything you are planning to do to him, one day will not cause any aging. If he needs more he can request it and we will all behave, but there is one day a week, where he gets to just be.”

Jaskier thought that actually was quite a good idea, because otherwise he’d go all the time and wear himself out. Vesemir really was quite clever. 

“Jaskier, what are your personal boundaries, things you never want to happen?”

Jaskier shrugged, which earned him a glare. “No cutting me. Don’t mind a bit of blood from biting. But run into enough bandits and angry cuckolds I generally don’t like any blade near me. No piss or shit. No treating me like a baby? I don’t mind a bit of name calling - brat, slut are fine, when said with affection? No hurts that don’t heal. I want…” Jaskier looked at Vesemir and wondered if he’d be fine with what he was about to say. “First time it isn’t Geralt in me, I want him there. After that alone is fine, but the first I want him there.”

“Understandable,” Vesemir agreed. “And I trust everyone is fine with those rules?”

“Yes, sir,” three voices called out in unison.

“Your safe word, lad?”

“Valdo. Trust me I say that in bed, I definitely want everything to stop,” Jaskier said. 

“Very well. Whetstone for me. Sound off boys,” he ordered.

“Belladonna,” Geralt said, and oh Jaskier didn’t know that.

“Paragon,” Eskel added.

“Safe words are for babies,” Lambert said. He crossed his arms and scowled. 

“Then you don’t get Jaskier,” Vesemir warned.

“Feather,” Lambert said.

Jaskier smiled a bit at the way he swiftly supplied a word, all his bluster was such show to impress his brothers. “What don’t you like?” Jaskier asked them all. He got to say what he didn’t like, they should too. “Geralt, anything I don’t know?”

“No, you know what not to do with me,” Geralt said.

Jaskier nodded.

“I won’t be tied up,” Lambert warned him. “And I really hate things in my mouth.”

“I wasn’t going to gag you,” Jaskier reassured.

“He hates kisses with tongue,” Geralt explained. “Fingers in his mouth. He has reasons.”

Jaskier didn’t like when witchers had reasons. Reasons and witchers were usually bloody or painful, or painfully bloody.

“Don’t press on my throat,” Vesemir said.

“No knives, or weapons,” Eskel added. “No blindfold for me. No…I don’t like derogatory language much. I can’t call you a slut like Geralt does.”

“That’s fine,” Jaskier promised. He smiled at Eskel. “Will you bring me flowers?”

“It is winter.”

“Metaphorical flowers,” Jaskier waved a hand in the air. Eskel caught it and pressed a hand to the back like a courtier. “Oh, fuck,” Jaskier sighed. They were all so different, and they were all his for months. He rested against Geralt. “Right. Geralt?”

“Hmm?” 

“Can we go to our room, and discuss everything that has been discussed tonight?”

“What more is there to say?” Geralt was frowning, confused. “If anyone talked, it should be me, telling them the things you like.”

Jaskier had been trying to be subtle.

“An additional rule, if I may, Jaskier?” Vesemir asked.

“Yes, sir?”

“Forgo any subtlety that you had to use out in the world. The next several months, Jaskier you don’t have to worry about what words are the right words, the perfect ones. No pretense, no hiding behind words. The next few months you are free from the constraints of the world, just like my pups are. Here? You can have whatever the fuck you want, Jaskier. You just have to name what that is.”

Oh. Jaskier felt his eyes well and sniffled a bit.

“You broke him, he’s making a noise and smells sad. Fix it!” Geralt shouted, clearly ready to panic. 

Jaskier felt a couple tears fall. “Not broken. Just free?”

“I don’t get it.”

“He has held himself back a lot, Geralt. You come home to be free and safe in the winter. He’s never had that.”

“Jaskier is always free,” Geralt said.

“No, he’s not, is he, lad?”

Jaskier shook his head a bit. “Do you know how much information is in my head, Geralt?”

“Yes, because you always says everything you're thinking.”

Jaskier snorted. He loved Geralt so much, and forever, but the man was so blind to people. “I know the internal politics of every royal court on the continent. I know what music style is in favour, what is on its way out. I love all my clothes, but if I don’t pay attention, I can be laughed out of court for wearing something with the wrong stitches. Do you know how much manners and etiquette differ across the continent? I do. History, culture, all weaving in my head. And then the walking into a bar, and knowing what songs will get us a bed, assessing in an instant exactly who they need me to be in this particular village. Am I a braggart, a flirt, humble? I contort myself always, to make sure we get paid, get fed something other than rat shit. I say so many words to hide everything I am thinking, everything I have to plan.” Geralt’s arms tightened around him, and he felt secure. “You think it is rambling nonsense - every word is always carefully chosen to project who I need to be in any given moment.”

“Here, you can just be you, Jaskier, "Vesemir reassured.

“How much do you do that with me?” Geralt asked, clearly shocked.

“Not very much when we are truly alone. In the woods, away from any secretly listening ears, watching eyes,” Jaskier said. “And any word of affection I have given you, has always been the utter truth.” Jaskier kissed him. “Dear heart, that has never once been a lie.”

Geralt was watching him, sniffed him carefully before nodding. “I can smell lies on people. I never smell them on you.”

“The trick, Geralt, is to either lie all the time, or believe your lie,” Jaskier said. 

“Be free, lad.” Vesemir ordered.

Jaskier smiled slowly. “Yes, sir. Geralt, please take me back to our room. Put me on my hands and knees and fuck me until I can’t stay up anymore and you have to hold me up.”

“Night, everyone,” Geralt said and stood up, easily bringing Jaskier with him. He let himself be carried up to their room, Geralt did exactly what he requested. Then though, they talked a bit about what they wanted from the next few months, Geralt wanting to know more about what Jaskier did for them, in towns, in their travels that he had never noticed before. Jaskier told him a fair bit, and wondered how much it would change things when they left in spring but that was a long time away. Jaskier needed comfort after that and fell asleep his mouth around Geralt’s cock. In the morning, Geralt was already gone to train with his brothers.

Jaskier dressed slowly and happily. When he opened the door he thought he smelled something floral. He smiled at the small springs of the last flowers of the year, ones that could survive the first couple frosts. He tucked a small bloom behind his ear and went to find his wolves.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so geralt talks of having had relations with vesemir during the trials -- want to be very clear in this story the trials happen a bit later, and geralt and the others were young but of age when they ended up in bed with vesemir.

They had been home for a couple of weeks, and Geralt was pretty fucking happy. He had his family and playing…training…with them was as excellent as always, and perhaps now when they moved close during a fight, he would stop to kiss them like he used to. And Jaskier was often found sitting on a wall, calling for shirts to get ripped off. They occasionally obliged him, though it was more they just started the fight shirtless, because rips required mending and they didn’t have a lot of clothes to spare. He and Jaskier were fucking their way through the keep, finding interesting corners to go at it. A couple time Lambert had come across them, leaned against a wall and watched - fuck Geralt loved that.

He loved Lambert seeing how beautiful Jaskier was when he was all fucked out and whimpering and sweaty. He loved watching Lambert stroke himself in time to how Geralt was fucking Jaskier’s face. He honestly assumed that Lambert was going to be up first when Jaskier decided he was ready. That was why he was a bit surprised on night in bed, Jaskier said, “Could we approach Vesemir?”

“Really?” Geralt asked. “Lambert would be less emotionally fraught.”

“Perhaps,” Jaskier rolled on top of him and sat up. Geralt automatically put his hands on Jaskier’s hips. “For me. But I think Vesemir might the most difficult one for you, so rather get that first step taken.”

Geralt frowned that didn’t feel quite right. “I don’t want…I don’t understand,” he said after a moment.

“Geralt, I want to fuck your father, or as close as you lot have. That has to be a bit awkward for you.”

Geralt scratched at his cheek a bit. They hadn’t been fully honest with Jaskier about certain things, and he supposed he should be. “Umm, yes, he is sort of our paternal figure, but uhhh…so…yeah and you see…so…there was…and it just made sense…and…there you have it.”

“There I have what?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt thought he had been pretty clear. “It, you now know the truth.”

“I know nothing, you fucking idiot,” Jaskier said. “There was no actual information in there. Like at all after paternal figure.” Jaskier snorted. “What you trying to tell me you’ve ridden Vesemir’s dick?” Geralt focused on drawing patterns on Jaskier’s thighs with his fingers. “Ummm…Geralt? Now is using words time.”

“Not for several decades,” Geralt muttered.

“Holy fucking shit, sweet Melitele you are telling me everything.” Jaskier reached down and pinched a nipple which made Geralt growl and roll them over. He snarled and snapped his teeth a bit. He then huffed when Jaskier made his eyes go wide and fill with fake tears. “Please pretty please? I’ll be good.”

“No you fucking won’t,” Geralt said. He grabbed the oil from the table and not much was needed with the earlier fucking. He pushed into Jaskier, who winced a bit but rose up to meet the thrust. “I can feel my come in you.”

Jaskier shuddered a bit. “Do not distract me. You have fucked Vesemir.”

“Oh please, like he’d let any of us fuck him.”

“You…” Geralt really enjoyed the flummoxed look on Jaskier’s face. “You’ve been fucked. You!”

“Part of training,” Geralt explained and began to move slowly. “Part of…coping after the trials.” He angled a bit and grinned at the squeak of over stimulation that Jaskier breathed out when Geralt pressed against his prostate. “The trials fucking hurt, Jaskier. The pain lingers for years. And general growing pains, and it all gets loud and aching and mixed up because in making you stronger, faster, you aren’t just dealing with the hormone spike of youth, it is all so much more. You couldn’t bother him a lot, we were mostly supposed to figure it all out together, but on a really bad night, you could go to Vesemir.” He began to move a little quicker, the feel of Jaskier’s body, the heat of the memories filling his mind.

“And? You do not leave it there!” Jaskier said and swatted at Geralt’s flank.

Geralt growled and pulled out. He stared down at Jaskier, Geralt’s cock throbbing, aching to be back in him, but Jaskier was so not allowed to brat like that. He hovered above Jaskier, waited. All he wanted was to be fucking his bard as hard as he could, but he could wait as long as it took. Especially because he knew it wouldn’t take long.

“I’m sorry, please?” Jaskier begged, but that wasn’t quite enough. “I’ll be good,” he whined and Geralt thrust in and there was no more talking after that, Geralt fucking as hard as he could, until he was close he pulled out of Jaskier and splatter his come all over the man’s chest, marking him thoroughly. He tugged at Jaskier’s cock just the wrong side of painful, enjoyed the way that Jaskier cried, begged for it to stop, begged for more until he was coming as well, a thorough and exhausted mess.

Geralt lay down next to him. “When the pain of it all was too much, when your brothers couldn’t make it better, when you couldn’t even think, you’d take the long walk to Vesemir’s rooms. I swear he knew when one of us would need him, because the fire would be high, and there would be softer blankets on the bed. A hot bath waiting. If you arrived in clothes he would take them off you, bathe you, and tuck you in. You had to stay coherent enough to tell him what you needed. Sometimes it was a story, or a cuddle. He would hold you all night. Do you know you cannot have a bad dream in Vesemir’s bed? Nightmares are banned at the door.” Geralt enjoyed the way Jaskier chuckled at that. He drew a finger through all the spend on Jaskier’s chest. It was going to dry in that thick and gorgeous pelt that covered Jaskier. Jaskier both hated and loved when that happened, but neither wanted to get up, a soft spell over the bed.

“But sometimes the wolves need more,” Jaskier whispered.

“Sometimes when he holds you, your cock would hurt so much. You had already jerked off half a dozen times, or tried but it wasn’t enough. Your brother’s hands and mouths aren’t enough because you haven’t quite figured out what else you can do. Vesemir would praise you, how proud he was of you for surviving. Which later you would realize was just chance, but he made it sound like it was your strength. He’d talk about something good about you, not just as a fighter, as a mutant -”

“Hey,” Jaskier protested.

“I know,” Geralt said, and tugged at Jaskier’s chest hair a bit. “I know, but it is how we felt. And he would ask if we need it to not hurt a bit, and you had to say yes. If you couldn’t say yes, he stayed with hugs and praise. But if you said yes, he would touch you, and talk to you, fuck he would say the filthiest things but they sounded almost noble in that gravely voice of his. And his hand was different, because it knew. Knew when to be gentle and when not. He was the one to teach you there were all sorts of touches that could arouse. He’d bring you off, and your body would just feel…better. Calmer. And before you left on the path, you could go one last time, and learn other things.” 

“Are you blushing?”

Geralt’s tug on his chest hair was a little harder than the last tug. “Look none of us talk about it. But it was the last lesson he gave, if you wanted it.”

“And you did?” Jaskier was playing with his hair, scratching behind Geralt’s ear and Geralt definitely didn’t adore when he did that, and he most certainly didn’t lean into the touch.

“I did,” Geralt agreed. “It was good? Fuck that was so long ago now.” Geralt stretched onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Why him first?”

“It just feels right?” Jaskier said. He lay on his back too, near but not quite touching. Geralt knew he had reached the be close, but don’t touch place he sometimes did. “It feels bad manners to fuck anyone else before him. And really it would be Lambert, Eskel isn’t ready yet.”

“And?”

“And you are in charge and it is great, fuck it is the best Geralt, you know that.”

Geralt smiled a bit. “You don’t have to reassure me, I know I’m a good fuck.” He thought about it. “Is that going to be a problem for you, worrying that we’ll worry how we fair in comparison?”

“Nope,” Jaskier replied.

“So, yes?”

“I don’t want you to regret this,” Jaskier said.

“Why would I?” Geralt turned his head, looked at Jaskier. “I won’t get upset that you enjoy it. Love it. I won’t -” he thought his words through. He wasn’t clever with words, but they had to be the correct one right now. “This is family fucking, it is fine.” He paused because that was definitely not the right words. “I -” he cleared his throat. “It is all honestly fine,” he finished with, and hoped that Jaskier understood.

“It is,” Jaskier agreed. “I’m gross.”

“I like it.”

“I know you do,” Jaskier said. “Staying?”

“Until the morning,” Geralt agreed. “Then I’ll clean you up.”

“Fair,” Jaskier agreed. “All is fine?”

“It is.” Geralt picked up Jaskier’s hand and kissed the knuckles. “All is better than fine.”

*

It was two more days and Geralt and Vesemir were training together, because Vesemir wanted to Geralt work on dual wielding because the old bastard was an old bastard and knew that was Geralt’s weak spot. Vesemir was yelling at him, and annoyingly handing him ass, but it was helping and Geralt’s body remembered the steps it seldom used, after a few hours he managed to push Vesemir back enough that Vesemir gave a pleased nod.

“Better,” Vesemir declared. “You could maybe not die by drowner with those sad steps.”

Geralt huffed a bit, knowing this was going to be the whole winter working on dual wielding. “Vesemir? Jaskier would like you to be first.”

“Would he?” Vesemir was cleaning his blades. “And shouldn’t he be asking me?”

“He will, but I just wanted -” Geralt shrugged and set to cleaning his own weapons. “It will be odd.”

“Bad?”

“No, just odd. Likely to bring back memories,” Geralt said. He leaned in and pressed his forehead against Vesemir’s when the man clasped his neck, brought them together. “You have always taken care of us, and I trust you to take care of him.”

“But…odd.”

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed.

“He has to ask me, Geralt, and then if he does, tonight you both come to my room. And it will be fine. I promise.”

Geralt nodded and finished cleaning his weapons, put them carefully away. He went to find Jaskier, found him in the library, lost in a book, Eskel sitting there as well, just staring at Jaskier. He went and sat next to Eskel. “This is his professor look,” Geralt said. “He will always find the beam of light that frames him as he reads. Makes people swoon.”

“Don’t see you swooning,” Jaskier didn’t look up from his book.

“Eskel is swooning enough for both of us.”

“We’re getting to know each other,” Jaskier said, and turned a page. “Well?”

“You have to ask him yourself, then tonight.” Geralt stood up, kissed the top of Eskel’s head, and went over, pulled Jaskier in for a much harder kiss. “Read aloud to Eskel, he’ll like that.” Geralt headed out, smiled as Jaskier’s voice rose and fell with the poems he was reading. He ran into Lambert and could not help himself, he crowded him into the wall, kissed him hard. “Sorry, you come second to Vesemir.”

“I figured I would,” Lambert replied. He shrugged, it didn’t bother him to come second to Vesemir, that was a thing he could understand. That was pecking order, it just made sense. “What was the kiss for?”

“Because I wanted to,” Geralt replied. “Because I’ve missed kissing you.” He pressed another kiss against Lambert’s mouth, still hard but never pushing in. Open mouthed but no tongue. “Fuck I’ve missed this.”

Lambert’s hands were on his ass, grinding them together before he pushed Geralt away. “I know what you are like, and we’ll fuck again - after I’ve had your bard.” He sauntered away, and Geralt knew it was a show but he watched anyways because Lambert did have the best ass of them. Geralt went and caught them some rabbits, worked on stew for the night. Jaskier came to help, and they worked together as smoothly as they always did.

“I asked,” Jaskier said.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight,” he agreed. 

Geralt nodded and they set the stew to simmer. He sat in a chair and pulled Jaskier into his lap. They kissed softly, and talked of nothing in particular. Well Jaskier talked about the books he had read, and Geralt listened. It was nice, and he was starting to see the difference in Jaskier. He still talked more than anyone else Geralt had ever known. But there was a softness to it now, the dramatic rise and fall of his voice quieter, the gestures not so huge. They were still there, but it was less of a show. And Geralt hadn’t realized how much tension Jaskier carried until he put the burden down. 

All his smiles were real now.

Dinner was a quiet but happy affair and when Vesemir stood he just looked at them. “One hour,” he said.

“Yes sir,” Jaskier said swiftly. 

Geralt smiled at how eager he looked. He nodded his own agreement to Vesemir. He helped Jaskier bathe and preen a bit, because the man wanted to look good for his first time with Vesemir. It was all he could do to remind him, witchers didn’t like heavy scents. But he indulged him, and let him put on a little eyeliner and fuss a lot with his hair. He said though trousers and a shirt were enough. They walked hand in hand to Vesemir’s chambers and Geralt knocked, pushed the door open when Vesemir called to come in.

“Geralt, relax on the bed, we won’t be needing it tonight,” Vesemir ordered. He was sitting in his reading chair by his fire, also just in a shirt and trousers. “Jaskier, stand there and wait.”

“Yes, sir,” Jaskier agreed. 

Geralt wasn’t sure he had seen anything cuter than Jaskier standing there, almost at attention. Geralt moved a few pillows on Vesemir’s bed, propped himself up so that he could see everything. He rested his fingers linked across his stomach.

“Geralt, you are a silent observer as Jaskier requested. You will be quiet unless you have concerns that Jaskier should be using his safe word and isn’t. And no touching yourself.”

“Mean,” Jaskier said.

“Quiet,” Vesemir snapped.

Geralt blinked because holy fuck, that had actually worked. “Geralt, your word?”

“Yes sir, no touching myself,” he agreed. He could see the smallest tremor in Jaskier, from excitement, and perhaps a little bit of nerves. “This room is the safest space you have ever been in.” Geralt gave Jaskier a small smile. “It is fine.”

Jaskier gave a small nod and the tremors changed, were just excitement. 

Vesemir smiled. “Take your clothes off, pet.” Jaskier moaned a bit. “You like that, pet? You want to be taken care of, petted, cared for, given treats?” Jaskier nodded but didn’t speak. “Good pet,” Vesemir praised. “Take off your clothes, and crawl to me, pet.”

How the fuck was Geralt not supposed to touch himself when Jaskier was going to fucking crawl? He was so damn pretty when he crawled. The clothes were thrown off, and Vesemir cleared his throat and a pointed look had Jaskier tidying them.

“Pets don’t need clothes, so when you come to me, once you are in the door, you take them off, is that understand?” Jaskier nodded. “You can speak again, good pet for remembering.”

Geralt watched Jaskier sway a bit, the praise already going to his head. “Yes, sir, I understand,” Jaskier agreed. He sank to his knees and crawled slowly.

“You’ve done that before.”

“Sometimes he crawls for me, it is so damn beautiful,” Geralt said. He shifted on the bed a little, but his hands stayed where they were. “Everything he does is beautiful.”

“I am sure it is,” Vesemir agreed. “Pet, come here,” he said. “Kneel between my legs.” 

Geralt watched Jaskier move there and look up at Vesemir. The fire light cast them in amazing shadow and light, for a moment it reminded Geralt of being 18 and in this room, being taken care of. He wondered if Vesemir had missed having someone to take care of in this way. If it had hurt Vesemir that they had all moved on from needing him in this way. But he had brought Jaskier, who needed so much. More and more Geralt realized that this wasn’t just about keeping Jaskier young, it was about making them all whole.

“Look at you pet, so earnest, so eager,” Vesemir said. “You are going to be good for me, aren’t you? Save your bratting for my boys. They’ll enjoy it. But us, you’ll be so good for me, my pretty little pet.”

“I will,” Jaskier promised. “I’ll be so good.”

Geralt almost snorted but a glare from Vesemir had him biting it back. They were building a mood and he wouldn’t ruin it, but even money Jaskier wouldn’t be able to help himself, would push Vesemir one day. He watched Vesemir stroke Jaskier’s hair, moving his head this way and that, and Jaskier was almost purring under the attention. “Would you like a treat, pet?”

“Yes please,” Jaskier begged. When Vesemir put two fingers to his lips, Jaskier began to lave them, suck them as he would a cock. 

“You have such a pretty mouth. Geralt how do you manage to stay on the Path when this pretty mouth is waiting for you?”

“Sometimes the path waits an extra day or two,” Geralt said dryly. 

“I am sure. Do you want more, pet?” Vesemir asked. Jaskier nodded around the fingers. “Warm my cock pet,” he ordered and undid his trousers. “Don’t suck until I tell you to.”

Jaskier sank down on Vesemir’s cock, and Vesemir picked up a beastiary and began to read. The only sound in the room was the fire, the turning of a page. It was really soothing, and Geralt found himself almost dozing as he watched the firelight play on Jaskier’s back. Occasionally Vesemir would stroke Jaskier’s hair and Geralt swore he could feel Jaskier’s happy sigh in his fucking soul. 

Time passed, Geralt had no clue how much until Vesemir put his book down. “What a good pet,” he praised Jaskier. “Up you come, into my lap.”

Geralt sort of woke from his light doze, enough to pay attention, to keep his bard safe, not that there was a single threat in the room, but not so much to lose the very contented feeling he had. This room was such a comfort, and he could see it would become that for Jaskier. Jaskier was in Vesemir’s lap curled into him and Vesemir was touching him, stroking his skin, until Jaskier was squirming. Vesemir drew a line down his spine to his ass. “Do you need me to fuck you tonight to be comfortable in the future?” he asked calmly.

“No, sir. I am happy with whatever you want to do. You have a nice cock, feels good on my tongue,” Jaskier said and rested his head on Vesemir’s shoulder. “You feel nice.” Geralt was always amazing - Jaskier wasn't a small man but he could curl himself until his seemed fragile, almost petite. So long as you didn't feel the corded muscle in arm and thigh, but still, he had this way about him that just made you want to take care of him.

“So do you, pet. Very nice. Hmm, now what do I want from you tonight. I admit I had a couple ideas, but your pretty mouth has distracted me from them.” Vesemir kissed him. Geralt watched Jaskier just melt into it. He was hard because it was his bard being treated well, given pleasure and that excited him, but he didn’t want to join in, or even touch himself. Just the watching was enough.

“Do you want tonight to just stay nice?” Vesemir asked him.

“Yes, sir,” Jaskier smiled at him. “Can I make you feel nice?”

“You may,” Vesemir said, “but not quite yet.” He reached to the table next to him. “Can you show me just how good you can be pet? Can you open yourself up, take yourself to the brink, so I can see how pretty you look?”

“Yes, sir, I can do that,” Jaskier said eagerly.

“On the rug, pet,” Vesemir gestured to the ground near him. “Not a silly show, don’t perform, just be. Put on a show and you’ll be in trouble.”

That would be a bit of a challenge, Geralt knew, but Jaskier should be able to manage. He shifted on the bed to better see Jaskier and watched as he slicked his fingers. He could see Jaskier ready to do something and whispered. “Jaskier, just be free.” He was relieved when Jaskier nodded. He really didn’t want his love punished on his first night.

Jaskier was on the ground fingering himself, quiet at first, focused on the task, but when a second finger pressed in, he moaned softly, and then each thrust the noise grew. 

“Pet, you are so beautiful in the firelight,” Vesemir praised. “Imagine how you’d look in a collar, stretched out there, would you like that? Pretty hardware for such a pretty pet? I bet you’d look beautiful.” Jaskier moaned and was soon panting. “Touch your cock, but you better stop before you come,” Vesemir warned.

Jaskier put everything into touching himself, clearly working hard and there was a choked scream when he stopped, flung his hands away from himself.

“Now that is a perfect sight,” Vesemir said. “Look how good you did for me, pet. Next time I will definitely have a few treats and toys for such a good boy. Now, heel,” he ordered and Jaskier crawled over. “Suck me off.”

Geralt watched Jaskier’s head bob, and Geralt knew that Vesemir was having the best damn blow job of his life. Sure the man had a few hundred years of fucking, but there was nothing like Jaskier.

Vesemir was silent, hands on the chair, head thrown back. Geralt only knew when he had come because he could smell it. 

“Good boy, what a good pet,” Vesemir praised. “Once a week, on this night, you come up here and be my pet.”

“Yes, sir, I would like that,” Jaskier said swiftly.

“Good. You two are excused,” Vesemir said, and did up his trousers.

“Umm,” Jaskier looked at him. “Sir?”

“Goodnight, Jaskier,” Vesemir said firmly.

“Yes, sir,” Jaskier’s shoulders slumped.

“You didn’t disappoint him, my bard, you’ve overwhelmed him and he needs space,” Geralt said softly. “You gave him more than any have in a long time. Think of our first few times.”

Jaskier nodded understanding and stood up. Geralt rolled his eyes when Jaskier had to push just a bit and kiss Vesemir’s cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered and he looked at his clothes distastefully. “I can go naked back to our room right?”

“You can,” Geralt agreed and picked up the clothes. He nodded to Vesemir and they left and the minute they were out of the room, Jaskier slumped against him. “That much huh?”

“God, I had forgotten just the energy old soldiers like that have,” he groaned. “Carry me?”

Geralt picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder. Once they were back in their room he growled a bit. “You do a good job?”

“I think so? I mean I give great head, and you said he was overwhelmed, and I do like the idea of being his pet, but maybe -”

“I meant were you thorough enough, fingering your ass, Jaskier?”

“Oh, yes, yes I was,” Jaskier said.

“Good,” Geralt didn’t bother undressing, just undid his trousers. He slicked his cock and pressed into Jaskier all in less than a minute. He wasn’t gentle, and Jaskier loved the contrast between the two experiences. “Fuck, you were so perfect for him.”

“Mad, I’m not perfect for you?”

“Would hate it if you were,” Geralt replied and sank his teeth into Jaskier’s shoulder. He was coming shortly after and Jaskier was whining the stimulation so much between the two men. Geralt slid out and sucked him off, and it was over quick. He bundled Jaskier into the bed and cuddled him close. “Think he’ll get you a leash for that collar?” he asked and enjoyed the whimper that Jaskier gave out. “Will you be fine alone with him, after this?”

“Yuh-huh,” Jaskier agreed and yawned. “This winter is going to kill me.”

“No, songbird, this winter is going to keep you alive forever.” Geralt kissed his head. “Sleep, dream of when he actually fucks you, how good that will feel.”

Geralt smiled at the happy noise that Jaskier made. He really hadn’t been jealous, it was a relief. It had been a small worry, but he could never be upset over anything that made Jaskier that blissed out. He kissed his head again and fell asleep fairly blissed out himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Jaskier woke up and stretched as far as he could, knowing Geralt was gone. In all their time together he had never woken up first, except when Geralt had a terrifying injury and his body was healing. And even then more often not he was awake, just not particularly mobile yet. But just as Geralt always rushed to attend to the morning tasks, Jaskier lingered in bed. Especially when he had one as lovely as Geralt’s.

He didn’t have to keep up, think of how to stretch their coin, a new song so no one could claim he was getting stale. If he wanted a day where he only left the bed to piss that was fine. Jaskier would get hungry though, and food wasn’t going to magically appear. Maybe if he thought about it really hard, Geralt would feel it deep in his soul and bring him food to break his fast. Jaskier didn’t have anything to lose and he was really fucking comfortable, so he thought breakfast please, over and over again. 

No food magically appeared though. That was annoying, but completely understandable. His wolf was magical, but not that sort of magical. Jaskier heaved a great sigh and went to the wardrobe. There was an honest to Melitele robe in there for him, and he put it on, the lush fabric making him swoon. It was an impractical thing for their travels, but practical for drafty halls in the keep. The only thing that felt better against his naked skin was Geralt’s skin. 

Jaskier went to the garderobe to take care of his morning needs, and when he was walking down the hall, he saw Eskel had a tray. “Good morning,” he called out. “What do you have there?”

“Oatmeal, with some dried apples,” Eskel said. “Tea.”

“Late breakfast for a witcher,” Jaskier was surprised. “Get swept up in your morning practice?”

“It is for you,” Eskel replied. “If you stayed in bed longer, it would have stuck to the pot and been unpleasant. Figured if I brought it to you, then it wouldn’t go to waste.” His gaze was focused on the tray and not Jaskier, and thus he couldn’t see the smile on Jaskier’s face. “Don’t like to waste food.”

“No of course, and I appreciate that. I admit I decided to have a bit of a lazy day, was dreaming about someone bringing me food. And look, just like magic, here you are. Will you keep me company while I eat?” Jaskier asked. His smile grew at the way Eskel gave a small head nod. He lead the way into the room, and shivered a little, Geralt never remembered to stoke the fire in the morning when he left. He saw Eskel cast the sign for igni and the fire grew. “My thanks.” He took the tray and put it on the table. It smelled wonderful. He sat in a chair, his one leg up and bent, the robe fell away and pooled and his lap. He leaned his arm on top and picked up the bowl. “Mmm, there is honey in this.”

“I raided the supplies to put a spoonful in for you,” Eskel said. “When Vesemir wasn’t looking. He guards the stores carefully, so we aren’t left wanting by the end of winter.”

Jaskier had a feeling Vesemir knew exactly what had happened but didn’t object to Jaskier getting a little spoiling. He ate happily, content in the silence. But he was confused at the way Eskel was looking at him. “What, oatmeal on my face? Sleep hair, it does get quite large if I sleep on my face.”

“Your leg,” Eskel said.

“Does it bother you?” Jaskier checked to make sure the large robe was covering the vital bits. Which it was because sure he was a slut, but he wasn’t rude. “I can cover up.”

“Why does it look like that?”

Jaskier was confused, “Like what? That’s not the leg with the harpy scar.”

“It is as muscled as a soldier’s,” Eskel was staring at his calf, the wall of thigh behind it. “I can see the muscle so clearly.”

“I walk the path with Geralt,” Jaskier said. He had to laugh. He never understood this. “I am walking this entire continent half the year, that tends to mean rather toned legs. Geralt has always talked about me as being small and needing protecting right?” Eskel gave a nod and Jaskier snorted. “I am almost the same height as him, I walk the entire continent, and regularly help move him after a hunt gone wrong. I’m not weak. Also -” Jaskier snapped his mouth shut. This was a secret he had kept from Geralt.

“Also?”

“In the winters, I had a lot of energy to burn, not traveling with him. Jerked off with either hand built the arm muscles up.” Jaskier smiled. 

“So, really?”

Jaskier looked at him. Geralt always knew when he was lying but didn’t press. Being asked about himself in this way was interesting. “I fight,” he said quietly. “There is a group, I guess it would be a gentleman’s boxing club? We are all technically gentleman and by giving it a fancy name, the university lends us a room. I joined at first because I had a habit of getting in bar fights defending Geralt’s honour and losing - badly. Broke a couple fingers. It seems pure undiluted rage and righteous is not enough to win a bar fight. Though swinging a barstool can help a lot. So I joined the club and learned to fight.”

“I would think being a bard, punching would be a dangerous way to spend your time.”

“It would, and it caused some problems.” Jaskier held up his hand to show the couple crooked fingers. “Luckily on my strumming hand. But I was determined to learn, and it made the itch under my skin quieter in the winter, the one that said I should be on the road, the one that always pushes me further. And then a woman joined. Fuck she was incredible. I learned how to fight with more than punches. Elbows, knees. Kicks. Head butts. Sometimes would enter fight competitions, mostly we all just were dealing with pent up feelings.”

“Did you start to win bar fights?”

“Win?” Jaskier had to laugh. “No, not really. Unless you are a professional the odds of six or seven to one, make winning difficult. But I always took a few fuckers down with me. Enough so that word spread. Don’t fear the witcher, fear the bard. The witcher might be a mutant but he only goes after monsters, the bard will go off with no rhyme or reason. Because you see, they don’t quite want to say there is a reason. Their own ignorance, hatred for the one helping them. Can’t quite admit that. So I’m the crazy bard, and between that and the songs I’ve written two in three villages no longer spit on him. Quite proud of that.” He finished the oatmeal and reached for the tea. It had gone a bit cool, so he just drank the whole cup in one go, and enjoyed the look of repulsion on Eskel’s face. “Yes, I know. Geralt gets appalled as well.”

“Tea is meant -”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, “yes I know, tea is a rare treat, and we must brew it properly and savour its delicacy and the million other things Vesemir taught you.” He looked at Eskel. “Tea was not a treat for me, it was part of my life growing up. And you cannot work at a university and not be fueled by tea. Should I tell you about leaving a pot steeping for five hours once, and then drinking it?” The man actually flinched, and it was adorable. “Now, I was planning to crawl back into bed and read. Want to join me?”

“If you want to have a lazy day…I could read to you?” Eskel offered.

Jaskier smiled, “That sounds really wonderful.” He went to the small table by the fire to collect the book he had been reading and passed it to Eskel. He stripped out of the robe and crawled back into bed. He pulled the covers up, snuggled in deep. He grinned at Eskel. “See something you like?”

“Perhaps,” Eskel replied as he kicked his feet up on the free chair and began to read the epic romance poem to Jaskier. Jaskier sighed happily. Eskel had a beautiful reading voice, soft, gentle. He also knew how to read poetry understanding how pauses worked, what words to inflect. Jaskier closed his eyes and just listened. Being able to just listen to someone else was a rare treat. In the winter there were always readings at the university but they were for public consumption. This was just for him, because Eskel wanted to make him happy.

“Is it acceptable for me to fall in love with you, just a little bit?” Jaskier whispered knowing witcher ears could pick it up just fine.

“Only if I can do the same,” Eskel said and looked up from the book. “Not all the way, I don’t quite have that in me, it would hurt too much. But just a little.”

“Just a little,” Jaskier promised. “Could read to me from here?” he suggested and gestured to Geralt’s side of the bed. “Don’t have to though.” Eskel didn’t move, just kept reading, and Jaskier started to lightly doze lulled by the sound of his voice. He didn’t move a bit when he heard Eskel stand as he kept reading. He stayed perfectly still as the thump of boots being kicked off rang in the room, and then Eskel was on the bed. Jaskier stayed very fucking still.

“It is fine,” Eskel promised and Jaskier moved and put his head on the man’s lap; he wasn’t a witcher so he didn’t purr when his hair was stroked, but he came as close as he could to it. Eskel kept reading and stroking his hair and Jaskier felt so fucking cared for. Geralt cared too, the man had the biggest heart in the goddamn world, but this wasn’t how it expressed itself. And it was closer to how Jaskier had been raised to understand love, how it had been at Oxenfurt.

It was nice.

He could hear the stop of feet and soon Geralt burst into the room, Lambert with him. “We were wondering - what the fuck happened to Jaskier, is he sick?” Geralt’s voice changed from happy to angry in an instant. “What potions do we need? Lambert ride to get Triss. I’ll -”

“I’m reading him a poem,” Eskel said. “He’s completely fine.”

Jaskier smiled though, because that was how Geralt showed love, angry concern that wants to solve everything. Fix it. See him on this mountain. “Having a lazy day, Eskel is making it extra nice.”

“I don’t have to do that to fuck you do I?” Lambert asked clearly a bit horrified. “I mean I know one poem. There once was a man -”

Geralt clamped a hand over Lambert’s mouth. “Thank you,” he said. “So you are fine? Not ill.”

“Not ill,” Jaskier promised. “This is just nice and lovely. What did you want?”

“I can be lovely to you, if you want. I could…” Geralt was clearly at a bit of a loss.

“My dear heart, you are lovely to me. In your way. Remember that time you said - _I really like your ass, I’m going to plough it tonight?_ That was wonderful. You would do a horrible job of reading me poetry.” Jaskier rolled a bit so he was looking up at Eskel. Eskel then hid his face behind the book. “You are so pretty,” he pulled the book down. “Pretty witcher. Isn’t he pretty?”

“No,” Lambert said. “None of us are pretty.” He scowled a bit, and Jaskier figured it was more about the lack of compliments thrown his way.

“Eskel is pretty, Geralt is handsome, and you, my grumpy one, are arresting.” Jaskier adored how all three of them were flustered from the compliments. “We were coming to suggest anything that would require me to put on clothes, because I am very against clothes today.”

“You’re naked?” Lambert asked. “Let me see.”

“Eskel?” Jaskier asked and Eskel nodded. Jaskier moved the blankets so that he was lying there naked, head still on Eskel’s lap, his hair still being pet. 

“See that is pretty. That is a pretty cock,” Lambert declared. 

“It is,” Geralt agreed. “Even prettier when he strokes himself off. Vesemir liked that.”

“Did he?” Eskel’s hand was in his hair and tugged a bit and Jaskier looked up at him. 

“Don’t, unless you are ready,” Jaskier said. The hand gentled in his hair and Eskel gave a small nod. Jaskier was disappointed but understood. “Would you like to see me jerk off?”

“I would,” Lambert said.

“I would too,” Eskel smiled and his hand traced along Jaskier’s jaw. “Unless that isn’t lazy enough for you.”

“It will be a lazy masturbation,” Jaskier said. He began to run his hand up and down his body slowly, enjoying the feel of touching, how Geralt’s gaze was loving, Lambert’s lecherous, and Eskel’s hand was soft in his hair. “This is nice,” he said flicking his gaze between the three men. He held the base of his cock for a moment before he began to stroke. 

“Do you know what I want to do to you?” Lambert asked and started forward but Geralt caught him. He almost snarled but Geralt’s hand slid to the front of his trousers and Lambert calmed, leaned back against Geralt. “I want to hurt you. Just a bit.”

“I don’t mind being hurt, just a bit,” Jaskier said.

“I want to put my whole damn fist in you. I want to bite you, leave bruises on your bones that are there for days, so that when Geralt or one of the others fucks you and they press down you feel the marks I left on you. You feel me. I want you suspended in the air, that your only point of contact is where my dick is in you. I want you in a corset tied just tight enough to shorten your breath and then take it away with my dick in your throat.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier said. He began to stroke himself faster. He watched Geralt stand behind Lambert and palm his cock through his pants. It was so much, to watch those gorgeous men like that that he closed his eyes, turned his face into Eskel. 

“I don’t want that,” Eskel said. “I want to touch you slowly, so it tortures you, wanting me to speed up, press more. But you get enough of that elsewhere. I would keep my touches slow, gentle, until it makes you beg. I bet you would be so beautiful when you beg. I’d ever so gently take you to the brink, and even more gently not let you tip over. Hours of making every nerve sing and ache, until me saying please my love, come for me, you would untouched.”

“I want you to come out to training one morning,” Geralt chimed in, because apparently his wolves were looking to kill him this morning. “And I want you open and ready and waiting bent over some boxes so that if one of us needs a break we can just go over and fuck you. Fill you up with our come. Just use you like a thing while we are riding the high of playing with each other. You wouldn’t move, maybe we’d chain you down even. You would just have to take until we were done with you.”

“I hate all of you so fucking much,” Jaskier couldn’t breathe. “I want all of that.”

“You can have it,” Geralt promised.

“You can have whatever the fuck you want,” Lambert agreed.

“I’ll give you whatever you like,” Eskel swore.

Jaskier arched his back and was coming all over his stomach. Fuck it wasn’t enough, he needed more. “Eskel,” he whimpered and he was nosing at the front of Eskel’s trousers where he knew there was a hard cock. “Please, need more.”

“Don’t rush him,” Geralt chided. “I know you need, we can -”

“No this is fine,” Eskel said and he opened his trousers and Jaskier began to suck at his cock and he felt better. He needed that connection after all their words. Something was hazy in his mind that something else should maybe have happened before this but he couldn’t think. He didn’t bob his head, he wasn’t looking to get Eskel off in that moment it was just about needing to suck. 

Eskel was bigger than Geralt thought not by a lot, but enough that his mouth was full, his jaw wide and he was nowhere near the base of the heavy cock. It felt so good. He gave a contented moan around the length and liked the responding sound that Eskel made.

“Would you like to come on him, baby?” he could hear Geralt ask.

There was a snarl. “Not a fucking baby,” Lambert cursed. “Don’t call me that.”

“But you love it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes you do, brat,” Eskel chided. “You love when Geralt calls you baby, you just are embarrassed because he did it in front of Jaskier and you want to appear all tough and whatever to him.”

“I’m a witcher, I am fucking - ah Geralt, fuck,” Lambert cursed. 

The angle Jaskier was at he couldn’t see what was happening but there was a heavy groan after that and Jaskier heard the rustle of clothes. He guessed that Geralt was touching the man properly and he knew that those hands could take you apart in a moment. He hummed a little as he suckled on Eskel’s cock. Jaskier thought about how it would feel to hold Eskel’s cock in his mouth for a hour, while Eskel read to him. It would be heaven.

“Look at all his pretty skin, baby, don’t you want to mark it with your come?” Geralt said. “Make him even prettier when he smells like you. Only one of us, he’ll actually smell like right now. You can have that baby, if you want. Does that sound good?”

“Of course it does, you bastard,” Lambert snarled.

Jaskier waved his hand in what he knew Geralt would understand was full agreement. He heard them move closer and he pulled off Eskel’s cock to look at Lambert. “I’d love to have you all over me,” he swore. He felt Eskel’s fingers press at his lips and began to suck at those instead and kept his gaze on Lambert, on his cock that Geralt was stroking hard. Jaskier loved how that felt, that edge of pain, and he knew that Geralt would be going harder on Lambert than he did on Jaskier.

Jaskier rather hoped this winter that he could push Geralt for more. They already went hard but he had more in himself that they could all have.

Lambert was cursing just a stream of rather impressive invectives and Jaskier could see him tensing. Geralt’s other hand moved to cup Lambert’s balls and the combination of touch was enough, and his spend landed on Jaskier’s hips, stomach, and a bit of his chest. Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes behind Lambert and the man looked so hungry like he wanted to add even more to Jaskier but they had promised this to Lambert. He knew he’d be in for more later.

Eskel’s fingers pulled out of his mouth and moved down to the come on Jaskier’s skin, swept through it and the fingers returned to his mouth. Jaskier licked them clean, swallowed the mix of himself of Lambert. Eskel did that a few more times and then pulled Jaskier up to kiss him.

It was a soft, lovely kiss.

Jaskier broke away first and smiled at him. “It will be so damn good when we get there.”

Eskel snorted a bit. “Trust me we are getting there soon.” He tucked himself away. “Why did you two come in, anyways?”

“Just figured all of us could lounge in the hot springs a bit,” Geralt suggested.

Jaskier actually thought that sounded wonderful. “Let me just put the robe on.”

“Don’t want to get the inside of the robe all sticky do you?” Geralt smirked at him. “Why get dressed to just get naked again?”

“A good point,” Jaskier smirked right back. He stood and stretched, the come he hadn’t been fed dripping down his skin a bit. “Hot springs? Whoever can catch me can come down my throat fucking my face in the water.” All the wolves looked hungry and he ran heavy footsteps behind him.

He wondered who would catch him. They let him lead all the way down to the springs and he didn’t have to look to know the hand that clasp his neck.

He wondered how long he’d have to just enjoy the water before his Geralt’s cock was in his throat. He hoped it wasn’t long at all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so warnings for this chapter include: spanking, very minor breath play, a wee bit of cock abuse. always remember witcher sex practices not necessarily good for human sex practices

Geralt’s head snapped back as Lambert actually landed a punch on him. He was about to make a snarky reply, but Lambert kept coming. It was more than their morning sparring, Lambert was fueled by something, that of course he wouldn’t express with words. That thought distracted Geralt enough that Lambert had him down on the ground.

Geralt had just thought someone needed to use their words more. Fuck, Jaskier lived in his head now. 

“Pay attention before I collect your fucking head,” Lambert snarled and soon they were rolling around in the dirt, too close to land proper punches, but there was clawing and teeth snapping, and Eskel calling out to them to calm down. Geralt shifted and found himself on top of Lambert and Lambert spit in his face. “Cock whore, I’ll gut you.” He bucked Geralt off, something he generally couldn’t do and was up. He wiped at the blood on his chin. “Come on then.”

“No,” Geralt said as he took a step back. Lambert charged and Geralt caught it, spun them around so that he pushed Lambert against the wall. When Lambert would have spit again Geralt covered his mouth. “Behave, you bastard,” he warned. There was a flare in Lambert’s eye, and Geralt almost understood, but Lambert kicked him in the balls and he was distracted. They fought hard, bloodied each other, until Eskel blew them apart with aard.

“Enough!” Eskel roared. “Lambert, go for a walk!” 

“Who the fuck are you to order me around?” Lambert was getting ready to take them both on.

“Because I know what you are doing!”

Geralt was surprised how that made Lambert pale and he hurried away without another word. Geralt went to the wash barrel, he had to break the thin layer of ice on it. He splashed the frigid water on his face. His lip was split but would be healed in just a few minutes. Geralt huffed. “What the fuck was his problem?” He dried off with his shirt which was torn in several spots.

“You,” Eskel’s voice was flat, calm. And somehow disappointed.

Geralt paused. “What did I do?” He couldn’t think of anything. Lambert and Jaskier had fucked last night and it had gone well. Geralt had watched from the chair by the fire, Lambert was a bit rough with Jaskier, but Jaskier clearly enjoyed it, so Geralt had not interfered any. Jaskier after had seemed happy, Lambert had gone to his room. Everything was fine. “I didn’t interfere at all with them last night.”

“No, you didn’t, did you?” Eskel shook his head. “Geralt, you can’t hurt him like you have been. Not anymore.”

Geralt frowned. “I would never hurt Jaskier.” He watched Eskel come over and he leaned into the touch when Eskel’s hand wrapped around his neck. In the next breath he found his head pushed into the frigid water. He was let up a moment later. “What the fuck?”

“You are hurting Lambert, you fucking idiot,” Eskel said. “He thought he was finally going to have you back. You called him baby a few nights ago. You can’t do that if you aren’t going to follow up on it!”

Geralt paused. “He’s had what he needs from you?” He was hesitant, unsure now.

“Geralt, you are the only one he would ever do that with. Years and Vesemir has been helping him a bit, but it wasn’t the same as you. And it was never very sexual. And now Vesemir plays with Jaskier, and you play with Jaskier, and Lambert plays with Jaskier.”

“And no one plays with him.” Geralt went and sat on the wall. “Only me?”

“Who else would he trust with that?” Eskel asked. “Jaskier is with Vesemir, yes?” Geralt nodded. “Perhaps you should properly attend to Lambert?”

“Thank you,” Geralt said. He went into the keep down to the bed chambers but Lambert wasn’t in his room. He went to his own, and Lambert was standing looking out the window.

“Fuck you, I don’t need you,” Lambert said, his gaze not shifting from the horizon. 

“I know. And you aren’t getting me when you are a fucking brat like you were out there,” Geralt replied. He calmly undressed and poured some water into the basin. He warmed it with igni, and washed up a bit. “Come here.”

“Fuck you,” Lambert said.

“You are already getting punished, brat, don’t make it harder for yourself.”

“Took you down, out there, can take you down in here,” Lambert was almost growling, and Geralt wondered that the tension in his spine didn’t break him. “Don’t need you.”

“Said that already.”

“Yeah well you are thick, figure you need to hear it at least five times, for it to get through your head. Don’t need you, not like how your bard does.”

“No, you need me in a different way,” Geralt said. “You have for years, and I ignored that. I am sorry, and I am going to make it up to you. After you are punished, brat. Now come fucking over here, or I will get the fucking strap.” Geralt’s voice was hard, unrelenting, because when Lambert was like this, if you gave him an inch, he’d take a mile. Geralt snapped and pointed at the ground right in front of himself. “Now!” he barked. He watched Lambert move slowly over, and didn’t say a word. Once Lambert was where Geralt had pointed, Lambert opened his mouth. “If you say that you don’t need me, brat, you will regret it.” He was relieved when Lambert just flipped him off and glared. He nodded, reached out slowly to undo Lambert’s shirt buttons. When Lambert didn’t try to break his fingers, Geralt realized just how much Lambert needed him. “Eskel said I’m the only one. Is that true?” 

He pulled Lambert’s shirt off and there was no answer. Lambert was staring at the wall which he supposed was answer enough. “I am sorry,” Geralt said. He knelt and took Lambert’s boots off, pulled his trousers slowly down. He trailed a finger along Lambert’s cock, and Lambert swayed a bit. Geralt then delivered a hard slap to that sensitive skin. 

“Fuck you,” Lambert snarled, “I fucking hate you so much.” Geralt delivered another slap, and there was more cursing but Lambert’s cock also began to harden. “I’m going to fuck you up.” But Lambert wasn’t moving, stayed exactly where Geralt had told him to stand. 

Geralt looked up at him, and Lambert was fighting it. That was Geralt’s fault, because he had honestly not thought that Lambert would miss that. “You are welcome to try. Tomorrow. After we see to what you need.”

“I don’t -”

Geralt delivered a brutal slap to Lambert’s cock, and stood up, wrapped his hand around Lambert’s throat. “Brat, keep speaking shit, and I’ll take your voice away.” 

Lambert smirked at him. “Don’t need -” He choked as Geralt’s hand squeezed, cut off his breath. They both knew Lambert leaned into the touch. When Geralt let go, Lambert looked at him. “Need you,” he said. It wasn’t finishing the previous sentence, it was a standalone statement. 

“Going to punish you for bratting out there,” Geralt warned. Lambert gave a faint nod. He went to the bed and lay down. “Good,” Geralt said. Lambert had a few knew scars that he would kiss in a few minutes. But other matters had to be attended to first. He knelt on the bed. “Up brat,” he ordered and Lambert canted his hips up. “Good,” Geralt praised. He reached under and held Lambert’s cock which was half hard. “Always did like punishment.”

“Just from you,” Lambert said in a voice only a witcher would hear. For a moment, Geralt didn’t want to do this, but they both needed it. He gave Lambert’s long and curved cock a too hard squeeze and then let go. His touch switched to bracing Lambert up, as his other land began to lay vicious blows to Lambert’s ass and thighs. He had teasingly spanked Jaskier, more a swat when the man was being particularly snarky. This was something else entirely. It was full witcher strength, it wasn’t about fun, it was about helping Lambert let go.

There was no counting off the blows, the number didn’t matter, what mattered was Lambert. Sometimes it would be a few blows, sometimes it could be a hundred, before his brain flipped over. Today was 27. Lambert couldn’t hold himself up anymore, his weight all fell on that hand that was bracing him. In letting go, he was trusting Geralt to hold him up. “Geralt,” Lambert whimpered.

“There you are, baby,” Geralt crooned. The blows immediately stopped, and his hand began to soothe the skin that it had been abusing. If Lambert had been human, the blows would have broken his coccyx, instead they had just made his cock leak. There’d be bruising for a couple days and Geralt knew Lambert would relish the feel every time he sat down. “Oh, baby, I am so sorry I hurt you.”

“Good hurt,” Lambert said. He wiggled a bit and Geralt lay down, pulled Lambert on top of him. It just increased the wiggling. “Was a brat. Had to.”

“Shh, don’t need to talk about that now, not when I have my baby in my arms,” Geralt was soft. He booped Lambert’s nose. “Hello there.” He smiled at the loopy giggle that Lambert gave. He looked almost drunk, which if he hadn’t been down in this sort of subspace in years, he probably was a little bit. “Now, baby deserves a reward.” He didn’t laugh at the way that Lambert lit up at that. It was agreed long ago, that Geralt would never laugh when Lambert shed his asshole layers. Because it was a gift to have this Lambert, and he didn’t want to ruin it. It was a rare thing that Lambert let this happen. And Geralt had denied him it. They’d have to talk about that more later. Which they would, because again Jaskier had infected him with that whole talk about your feelings thing. “Hmm, what would be a good reward?” He pretended to think about it a bit as Lambert wiggled so that their cocks were rubbing against each other. “I could read you a book,” he suggested and oh Melitele, Lambert actually pouted and whined, and it was the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen.

“Hands and knees,” Geralt ordered and Lambert immediately scrambled off of him, and into position. “Good, baby,” Geralt praised. They didn’t even pretend in the room, the oil was just always left out on the table and Geralt reached for it. “Legs a bit more apart.” He nodded when Lambert adjusted. “You are so good for me, baby. Do you know how much I liked watching you and Jaskier last night?”

“If you liked, you would have played too,” Lambert said.

“I thought you wanted him alone,” Geralt said. He saw the small shake of head. “What were you picturing that I denied you?” There was a bit of a shrug. “Bet I can guess.”

“Nu-uh,” Lambert challenged.

Geralt pressed a slicked finger to his hole. “I totally can. You were picturing…Jaskier sucking you off while I fucked you raw.”

“I am now,” Lambert whined as the finger pushed in. 

“Hmm,” Geralt thought about it as he worked the one finger in and out a bit before pushing in with two. There was a hiss but no cursing. Once Lambert was in this zone, he never cursed. “Was I close?” There was a nod. Geralt pressed his fingers in and out, stroked his own cock with his free hand. “Me fucking you, while you fucked him?” There was an even smaller nod. “Who were you when this happened? Lambert, or baby?”

“Lambert?”

“Were you?”

“Was baby,” Lambert admitted. “He wouldn’t like baby. He likes strong, tough witchers.”

“Oh no, baby, he would adore you,” Geralt promised. “I know this for a fact. Yes, he loved Lambert, but he would love how you are now, so much. I can just picture you two, curled around each other, cuddled all up, playing with each other’s cocks. You would have so much fun. More?” he asked quietly and there was a shake no. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby, you sure?”

“Need you to fuck me, Geralt,” Lambert said. “Please, Ger.”

“Of course, baby.” Geralt slicked up his cock and moved behind Lambert. He held himself carefully and slowly pressed in. He was relentless, not giving him time to adjust, knowing Lambert didn’t want that, he liked to feel it and then when Geralt was all in take a moment. Once Geralt was done his press in he rubbed small circles into the small of Lambert’s back, waited. “I know taking you down is private. He could wait with Eskel or in the hall until you were ready. Let him in, and you two could play. He likes wearing make up you know, sometimes.”

“I like lip paint,” Lambert whispered.

“I know you do, baby, you two would have so much fun. Know you want to put him in a corset, bet you could dress up too. Lambert can hurt him, and he’ll love it. But he’d also love baby so very much. Something no one else can give him. Picture it both of you in red lips, his around your cock, fuck, I’d love to see that,” Geralt said. “Now?”

“Now,” Lambert agreed. 

Baby needed care, but loathed being well, babied, so Geralt let each thrust hit Lambert’s bruised ass, fucked him hard and once Lambert began to moan, Geralt just fucked him harder. “My beautiful baby, you give me so much when you let go,” Geralt praised and loved the whimper that Lambert gave in response. “No coming, baby, for me?” 

“Of course,” Lambert replied. Geralt pressed his thumbs into a couple of the bruises and Lambert shouted, moaned. Geralt pushed hard until the pressure built in his spine. The orgasm crashed through him hard, and he collapsed against Lambert, who had the arm strength to hold them both up, even as his cock was aching and his head was swimming. Geralt caught his breath and pulled out of Lambert. He cleaned himself up a bit and went back to the bed. 

“You are so amazing baby, fuck I missed you so much.” Geralt lay down and pulled Lambert on top again. He stroked his face, ran his thumb over Lambert’s lips. He smiled when Lambert kissed the thumb. Baby always kissed, Lambert would have drawn blood. 

“You had your bard.”

“I missed you,” Geralt said firmly. “That you trust me with this.” He wrapped his arms around Lambert and tsked when Lambert tried to subtly hump against him. “Not yet baby,” he chided.

“Fine.” Geralt laughed at how many syllables were added to the word. He stroked his hand up and down Lambert’s back, pressed lightly against the bruises. He soothed the man, let him stay in the soft head space for a while. He was trying to figure out how he wanted Lambert to come, when Jaskier came into the room.

“Vesemir had a collar, it was so soft,” Jaskier said and flopped on the bed. “He pet me.”

“He gives good pets,” Lambert said. “Hiya,” he turned his head to look at Jaskier. “I’m baby.”

“Hiya, baby, I’m Jas,” Jaskier said. “I feel good right now.”

“Me too, but Geralt hasn’t let me come.”

Jaskier gasped, “That’s mean! Vesemir didn’t fuck me yet. But we played.”

“That’s mean,” Lambert repeated Jaskier’s words. “Geralt isn’t mean though, he makes it all good and blurry on the edges. Makes it all not hurt for a bit.”

Geralt had a thought. “Baby, would you like to fuck Jaskier?”

“Yeah,” Lambert agreed.

“I wanna fuck you too, baby, but it took all my energy to come back here,” Jaskier was pouting. “Body all noodled and not listening.”

“Can you both trust me?” Geralt asked, and he warmed at the nods and earnest eyes he was given. “Vesemir open you up?”

“Toy. I played fetch and then got to put it in my ass.” Jaskier giggled. “I’m good at fetch!”

“I am sure you were,” Geralt agreed. “Baby, lie on your back, please.” Lambert did what he was told. Geralt grabbed the oil and coated his cock, stroked him gently so different a touch from when they started earlier. “You have to stay still, but you can come whenever you want, understand?” Lambert gave a swift nod.

Geralt shifted on the bed and picked up Jaskier. “Good, love?”

“Yup!” Jaskier smiled at him. “It was a big toy. Shiny.”

“Lovely,” Geralt said. He arranged Jaskier carefully, and then sank the man down onto Lambert’s cock. Both men sighed very contented. They were such a pretty picture all soft together like this. “Now, Jaskier, you do not have to do a single thing but enjoy.”

“I think I have to move don’t I?” Jaskier asked, brain foggy from his hours with Vesemir. 

“No, I’ll take care of that,” Geralt swore and he wrapped his arms around Jaskier. He rocked himself against his bard, used his arms and thighs and lifted Jaskier up, and brought him down again. “You two, just enjoy.” He moved Jaskier on Lambert’s cock, and Lambert looked so blissed out staring at them. “Baby, how does he feel?”

“Really good,” Lambert said. His eyes were unfocused, his hands rested on his stomach. “I like him a lot.”

“He is very likable,” Geralt agreed. He did all the work for them, lifting Jaskier up and down, and once he had a solid rhythm going he began to stroke Jaskier’s cock as well until he started whining. “Too much?”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, “Do it more.”

Geralt kept the pace steady, not rushing either man. He stroked Jaskier off until the man had come all over Lambert’s chest, and he kept moving Jaskier until Lambert’s face scrunched up, and he groaned a low guttural noise that Geralt remembered and had deeply missed. He eased Jaskier off and to the side. “A last reward, baby,” Geralt said and licked all the come off of Lambert’s chest. He cleaned them both up and slid into the bed in between them. He cuddled them close. 

Geralt praised them both, gave them soft kisses, and softer touches. There was a knock at the door and Eskel popped in a small tray of dried fruit and water with him. He put it on the night table and left. Geralt made sure that they both ate and drank a little.

Lambert came up slowly a couple of hours later, putting his prickly assholes on like a cloak. “I don’t need you,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb Jaskier who was clearly dozing.

“I know, you bastard. But if it is all the same, I’ll need you,” Geralt said. “Just sometimes.”

“Fine, I suppose I can help you out,” Lambert said, bestowing a grand favor. “I’m going.”

“You don’t have to,” Geralt said. He checked the man’s eyes. He was up enough it wouldn’t be a problem, but he had hurt Lambert for too long, and didn’t want him to feel unwanted.

“I know,” Lambert agreed. He pressed his forehead against Geralt’s. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, you prick,” Geralt replied. Lambert left and Jaskier’s eyes popped open. “That was kind of you.”

“I like baby.”

“I do too.”

“I like Lambert.”

“I do too.”

“I love you.”

Geralt kissed his forehead. “I love you too. Want to tell me everything you and Vesemir got up to?”

“Yes, I really do,” Jaskier said and rambled on about it, and Geralt happily listened.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so in this chapter we have eskel/jaskier. scent kink, soft sex, jaskier safe words but everything works out okay. i am aware that it is not necessarily in real world okay that they continue sex after a safe word, but it is fic and also fits with the characters.

Eskel woke up slowly, which was rare for a witcher. Though less rare in winter when they were safe in Kaer Morhen. 

And even less rare waking in a brother’s bed. 

The big problem is that he was being squished right on his bladder. But when he tried to move Jaskier, the bard grumbled and burrowed. “Geralt, a little help?”

“No, this is a treat for me,” Geralt replied as he stretched slowly since the bastard wasn’t trapped under a bard. “I wake up numb because he weighs a surprising amount, and no matter the space you put between you, he will end up on you. Once we had a fucking city between us, I woke up his knee trying to unman me.”

“There has to be a way to move him,” Eskel said. He glanced at Geralt who was smirking. “A nice way,” he added. 

“Roll,” Geralt said.

Eskel rolled until he was on top of Jaskier. “Now what?” 

“Just sort of slide down his body, he’ll think you’re going to suck his cock, then just keep sliding until you’re off the bed, and for the love that is anything good in the world, do not respond to the whimper he gives, because then he will not let go again.”

Eskel did as Geralt suggested, and when he was standing, it wasn’t just that there was a whimper, there were grabby hands, reaching for his warmth. He glared at Geralt who shooed him away. Eskel hurried and took care of his needs, and almost ran back to the bed. Jaskier had attached himself to Geralt, and Eskel moaned because Geralt had a couple fingers in Jaskier’s mouth and Jaskier was sucking, still mostly asleep.

“He really likes things in his mouth,” Geralt whispered. His gaze was over the top of Jaskier’s head and it was intense. “Ready?”

Eskel looked at both of them, his breath caught in his throat. He was, but, it was so much. “Geralt,” he whispered.

“I will hurt you again, because I’m a…”

“Idiotic barbarian who has had his head stepped on by a few too many monsters which made you a moron,” Jaskier finished helpfully, pulling off the fingers. Eskel smiled as he turned away from Geralt to face him. “He is sorry that he took himself away from you out of a weird nobility to me.”

“Love is a good reason,” Eskel replied.

“Exactly, why he should have kept fucking you and Lambert in the winters. You wanted to romance me not completely about me, but to show Geralt you valued what was his, valued him. Because he’d never let you romance him.”

“We don’t want that,” Eskel said and Geralt grunted in agreement. He flicked one of Jaskier’s nipples when he snorted and rolled his eyes. “You overestimate what Geralt and I feel for each other.”

“I don’t,” Jaskier protested. 

Eskel thought about it for a moment, “You estimate it in the wrong way,” was what he came up with in the end. “We could never love each other the way you two love each other. To be consistently around each other, we’d grow frustrated, too alike at the core. And I don’t want all that.” He waved a hand to try to encompass it all. “I want to like you, love you just a little, but to have the surety that I’m not your everything. Not his everything. I never want to be that much to anyone, it would be too much to carry.”

Jaskier was clearly thinking about it, and he eventually nodded. “Eskel, show me what you want me to be. Show me who you want to be.”

“Fuck, how do you say the perfect thing?” Eskel pulled him in close for a soft kiss. 

“Luck, he’s always talking, sometimes it just happens to be the perfect thing,” Geralt teased. Eskel reached around Jaskier and pinched Geralt’s side hard. He then rested the hand in the small of Jaskier’s back as they kissed. Geralt’s hand squeezed his, then touched Jaskier, before he rose. Both men grumbled. “Just stoking the fire, going to sit in the chair,” he promised them. 

Eskel rolled on top of Jaskier, broke the kiss. He looked down at the bard who was still not completely awake and had a soft look on his face that contrasted with the stubble on his jaw, the hard shoulders and thick arms. “You are such a creature,” Eskel said and had to kiss him again. He kissed Jaskier until his lips ached, until the fire warmed the room enough the furs were too hot against his skin, and he kicked all the covers off the bed.

“Hey, human here gets cold,” Jaskier whined.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Eskel swore, and pressed his whole body against Jaskier’s. He breathed in, the sleep sweat scent, the bit of Geralt that just always clung to Jaskier, and the scent that was all Jaskier. So very human, stale and fresh at the same time. He smelled of earth, things on the cusp of growing but not quite there. “You smell like promise,” he told the bard as he moved down, pressed his nose against his neck.

“I smell like sweat and witchers,” Jaskier said. “Nothing particularly poetic about that.”

“Promise, heady, and dark, something that hovers on the edge, it can become rotten in an instant if not given what it needs. I can smell your mortality wanting to grasp hold, always hovering on the edge.”

“Fuck him, soak him in your come, hold that mortality at bay,” Geralt begged.

“With pleasure,” Eskel replied. “With a great deal of pleasure.” He sat up, across Jaskier’s lap and looked down at him. “I’m going to touch you now,” he told him, “Unless you don’t like it, just go with what I am doing; your limbs and body follow where I lead.” He waited for Jaskier’s lead. “Valdo, right?”

“Yeah, but I doubt some touches will make me need that.”

Eskel didn’t answer that. Instead he picked up Jaskier’s hand, and began to work the fingers. He stroked and pressed, straightened and flexed them. Bones cracked gently, calluses were scraped at, until Eskel knew each whorl on every finger tip. He kissed all five and then brought the same treatment to the other hand. He returned to the first arm, squeezed Jaskier’s wrist until he could feel the bones shift. He stroked the thick arm hair followed its path, dug into the surprisingly thick biceps, leaned down and bit the muscle, worried a spot between his teeth but never close to breaking skin. Jaskier was moving under him, restless, and a bit confused.

“What was you doing?”

“Learning you,” Eskel said. 

“How long will it take?” 

“As long as I want,” Eskel replied and did the same to the other arm. “Let me know if it is too much.” He kissed Jaskier again, taking away the snort that Jaskier was going to give at the thought of something so soft being too much. He dug his thumbs into the hollow of shoulder bone, traced his clavicle with firm fingers but never hurt, never edged into pain. He pet Jaskier’s chest hair, circled fingers around nipples that grew hard under the touch. Jaskier tried to arch up for more but Eskel pressed him down. “Just taking, remember?”

“Can I touch you?”

“Later,” Eskel said. He was fascinated by Jaskier’s stomach. He was fit but it wasn’t the rigid stomach muscles that Lambert or Geralt had, or his firmness. There was a touch of softness but the core underneath was strong. The ribs couldn’t be seen but a touch, the barest press and they were there. He kissed each one, over and over. Jaskier’s hard cock was pressing against him, and he ignored it. He’d be ignoring it for a while yet. Instead he stroked at hips, relished the smell that lingered there. That scent of promise, of denied mortality. He loved that scent, more than Lambert’s pain and longing, more than Geralt’s stoicism and heartbreak. Promise and rejected mortality - he could get drunk on yet. He lay his head on Jaskier’s thigh and just breathed in.

“Valdo,” Jaskier whispered, throat thick with uncertainty.

Eskel immediately moved up the bed and pulled him into a hug, a hand soothing up and down his back. Geralt joined them on the bed and Jaskier turned into his arms. Eskel was ready to run, flee because he had fucked it all up. But Geralt’s glare had him staying in place. 

“Shh, you are safe,” Geralt promised him. “It is a fine thing to be needed. You are safe to let yourself be needed my love. You don’t have to perform. Remember what Vesemir said, here there is no pretense, you can be you.”

Eskel wondered what was going on, and decided the best thing he could do was lay there and wait. 

“You can be worshiped, praised, loved,” Geralt swore. “You don’t always have to give, you can take.”

“I should make him feel good. You like it when I make you feel good.”

“So fucking much,” Geralt agreed, “You take care of people, of me, amazingly. And if you want to take care of Eskel, the best thing you can do, is let him learn you, take care of you.”

It seemed that the bard was just as much of a mess as all of them, under his bright clothes, and brighter smile. “Can I touch you?” Eskel asked, and waited for a nod and then he pressed himself against Jaskier’s back. “You were worried what I was getting out of that?” There was another nod. He rocked his hips a bit. “Feel? I’m hard, just from touching you, breathing you in. Nothing makes me happier than that. Touches, scent. Right out of a bath, a week of camping with no water in sight, and anywhere in between. All good for me.” He wrapped an arm around Jaskier, managed to squeeze it in between Geralt and the bard. “You like to make people happy. You like to make Geralt happy. It turns you on, serving others.”

“It does,” Jaskier agreed. “I like the floaty feeling.”

“And me touching, like that, no floaty feeling.” There was a small head shake. “I don’t like to talk during sex, much. Can I touch you, and Geralt tell you what it is doing to me, for me?”

“That would be good,” Jaskier agreed after a moment. “You are overwhelming.”

“I know, it is why I don’t fuck a lot,” Eskel said. “Are you sure?” 

Jaskier shifted in their embraces, and was laying as he was before. But now Geralt was next to him, Geralt’s mouth almost next to his ear. Eskel moved down the bed and began at Jaskier’s feet, giving them similar treatment to what he had done to Jaskier’s hands. Geralt was quiet but it wasn’t that big a bed, even a human would have heard what he was saying.

“Eskel touched you like this, to imprint you in his mind, to mark you as his pack, to learn every inch of you. By the end of winter he’ll know you so well that a breeze carried on the wind hundreds of kilometers and he will catch your scent be able to track you. He could find you, no matter what after this. You will be imprinted into his very soul, just like I am, just like Lambert is. Because this is his love. His knowing you, and knowing that even if the worst comes to pass, he can always find you. What a gift that is, to be carried in someone like that. I would always want to find you little fox, always and forever, but he would be the one to guide me to you.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said softly and Eskel moved up to his calves. “That actually is rather nice.”

“He has sensitive fingers, even through the sword calluses, doing this to you is so arousing for him, the contrast of your soft skin, and coarse hair. Where you are soft, where you are hard, it is making him dizzy, you make him ache with your skin. His cock leaks when he gets to breathe you in,” Geralt continued. He was nipping at Jaskier’s ear lobe, and shoulder in between sentences and it was a gorgeous sight to behold. Eskel pressed on Jaskier’s thighs, urged them apart. Jaskier spread them easily, so willingly now that he was beginning to understand. 

Fuck, Eskel was going to want to fuck in between those thighs one day, the strength in them, the muscle. It would feel so good. But that was for another day. Today he was just learning the feel of them. He leaned and dragged his nose against the hair until the crux of thigh and pelvis. He waited for Jaskier to ask him to stop but his legs spread even more, and Eskel breathed in. He held up a hand and oil was pressed into it.

Eskel slicked a finger and pressed it against Jaskier’s hole. He could hear Geralt still speaking but at this point he was making sure to not focus, to give them privacy for the words, even though they were about Eskel. He slowly pressed in and there wasn’t much resistance after the hard fuck that he had watched Geralt give Jaskier last night. But he took his time, feeling Jaskier inside as carefully as he had done to outside. He stroked and reached, after a bit pressed two fingers in and oh the way Jaskier’s cock jumped at that was just lovely. Eskel licked at the length that he could reach from where his head lay. Jaskier cursed and begged and Eskel smiled when Geralt’s hand wrapped around Jaskier’s cock.

He was so gone over the bard, completely besotted and wanting the bard to have every little thing his heart desired. Eskel didn’t try to match his time to Geralt, he just did what he wanted with his touch in Jaskier, enjoyed massaging his prostate, and breathing in the smell of Geralt’s hand on Jaskier’s skin. It was a fucking gift.

Eskel stretched his fingers, worked Jaskier open, added a third, even a fourth. Yes it was needed for his cock, but more because he just wanted to feel how Jaskier responded. “I can put my whole fist in you this winter, I hope?” he asked.

“Gah, bwah?” Jaskier said.

“Ask again when he is coherent, but I am sure it will be yes,” Geralt answered. “More right now though would be too much. He needs you, Eskel.”

Eskel pulled his fingers out, and slicked his cock. He lined up and looked down at Jaskier. “You’ll never be lost again, you’ll always be found. I promise.” He saw a tear fall from Jaskier’s eye and Geralt kiss it away, and Eskel sank slowly in until he was fully seated. He didn’t move, just stayed there, looking down at the bard and Geralt. “This winter, we’re all found,” he said and slowly pulled almost all the way out and then pushed forward. He never sped up, just slow and steady thrusts. Jaskier was panting between the stretched feel around Eskel’s cock, Geralt’s hand around his length.

That smell was rising, mortality begging to be let back in. But it wasn’t welcome here, Eskel’s cock was making sure of that. Fuck, but Jaskier felt good. He rolled his hips, shifted on the bed to angle Jaskier up a bit more and there it was, the perfect angle. Eskel saw spots in the corner of his vision but still didn’t speed up. Jaskier was gasping, begging for air to fill his lungs, and Geralt was whispering filthy promises against his ear while he basically humped against the two of them. 

Eskel felt Jaskier’s body tightened around his and only sheer stubbornness had him managing this steady pace, but he was certain if Jaskier didn’t come soon that Eskel was going to die. But Jaskier arched into Geralt’s touch, and then was coming. Over Geralt’s hand, onto Eskel a bit, onto himself. Eskel finally sped up, as Jaskier’s body collapsed and was completely pliant, satiated by the orgasm. Geralt sat up and pressed his thumb to Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier opened his lips, and Eskel watched as Geralt furiously stroked his own cock. Both witchers came at the same time, Eskel in Jaskier, Geralt across his lips and tongue. 

Geralt collapsed and pressed more his come into Jaskier’s mouth with his fingers. Eskel eased out of Jaskier and lay on his other side. It was the least mortal Jaskier had ever smelled to him. Now he just smelled of witcher and all the possibilities of tomorrow. It was a good scent too.

“Tell me you aren’t like that every time,” Jaskier begged.

Eskel kissed his jaw. “No, not every time,” he promised. “Just sometimes.”

“Sometimes I can cope with,” Jaskier smiled at him. “I’ve never had the like, and I have had a lot of sex.”

“A lot a lot, more than anyone else I’ve ever met. And I’ve know this one madam for 60 years,” Geralt said, deliberately easing the tension of the moment. “You should have medals for how much sex you have had.”

“Thank you, Geralt,” Jaskier said and flipped him off. “You make me sound like a hussy.”

“You are one. Love that about you. All that sex made you really great in bed. Like me training with my swords,” Geralt offered the high praise. His hand rested over Jaskier’s heart. “I am good at killing monsters, you are good at fucking.”

“I do think my singing should be top of the list.”

“Eh, that I can take or leave,” Geralt teased.

Eskel and Jaskier both snorted. “I should leave,” Eskel said.

“Nope, fuck me like that, you are stuck having a lazy morning in bed with me, reading to me. It is an order.”

“I should -”

“He gave you an order, Eskel, and you’ll obey,” Geralt said. He stood and dressed. He tossed a book of poetry at Eskel’s head. “Have fun.” He grabbed his swords and was shouting for Lambert before he was even out of the door.

Eskel held the book. “I’m sorry that I overwhelmed you.”

“I accept,” Jaskier said and touched his cheek. “And I can like it, sometimes.”

“Sometimes is more than enough,” Eskel said. He opened the book and began to read to Jaskier. Sometimes was perfect. It was a promise, just like Jaskier’s scent was.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> super possessive and rough geralt

Jaskier was sweating, out of breath, but he needed to control it, because Geralt was coming. Hunting him, and he wanted to make it at least a little difficult for the man. The harder he made it for Geralt to find him, the harder Geralt would be on him. 

And Jaskier desperately wanted that.

So he tore through the keep, to run, to hide. He had been watching them all train this morning, and they had been pushing each other. Jaskier would be worried about how Eskel flung Geralt across the yard with his signs, but Geralt clearly loved it, and they were scrapping. Playing like pups, if pups could kill you in a single blow. Jaskier had touched himself a bit as he watched because the three of them had stripped down to just trousers. Vesemir was at the other end of the courtyard working with a bow, and generally ignoring the chaos. There had been a few pleased smiles though. He was happy his pups were so playful this winter. Jaskier hadn’t been working himself, more just pressed a palm against his cock that was half hard from watching the wolves fight.

He had swallowed though, when all three had snapped their heads in his direction, scenting his arousal. Jaskier had maybe wondered if it was the day he’d be tied up in the courtyard for their use, but when Lambert stepped forward towards Jaskier, Geralt’s hand on his neck stopped him. “Mine,” was all Geralt said. “Today he is all mine. You get him on loan when I deign it, and today I don’t.”

“My choice,” Jaskier had challenged. “What if I want one of them instead of you today?” He smirked a bit, because he was absolutely pulling the wolf’s tail. “What if maybe you are the poorest choice in the keep?”

“Oh little bard,” he heard Eskel say and saw the man shake his head. “Looking to hurt today I see.”

Geralt had stayed very still. “You have a five second head start little fox, though I don’t suggest you take it. The longer it takes me to put my hands on you to remind you where you belong and whom you belong to, the less considerate I will be. So stay put. One,” he had begun to count, and Jaskier had taken off like a bolt.

Years of running from spouses and angry crowds had made him rabbit quick, and he had spent weeks learning the keep well. He would hide and run, and could just hear Geralt keeping a calm pace through the whole keep. He would call out, “Little fox, little fox, wouldn’t it be more fun to play with me?” 

Fuck but it would, but Geralt had said the longer Jaskier made him work for it, the worse it would be on him, and Jaskier was desperate to find out just how bad it would be. Today was the day there where Geralt finally and truly let go, trusted Jaskier to handle him. It had been coming, and the longer Jaskier took to get caught, might make it happen. Shit, he had been daydreaming too much about what Geralt might do to him and those footsteps were too close. Jaskier looked up, and he moved a dresser, climbed. He made it through the hole in the ceiling just before Geralt could catch him. “What a slow witcher, maybe I should find someone from the cat school to keep me ageless, if a wolf can’t catch this little fox.” The growl that came from Geralt actually shook the floor he was standing on. Jaskier ran, but knew he didn’t have much more, if he wanted to be able to cope with whatever Geralt was going to do.

Jaskier had a choice, veer back to their bedroom, or up to the tower that he sometimes went to when he needed space. The wolves had all be avoiding it, leaving it to be his, but now he wanted Geralt in there. Jaskier could hear him calling and he wanted to go to that voice, but he needed to make it just a little farther. He ran up the steps and fuck his thighs were burning, and he burst into the room that he had turned into a bit of a crow’s nest. Things that had caught his fancy around the keep, tons of furs forming a nest that he sometimes took naps in, because he could there were no demands on his time here. Jaskier collapsed on his furs and waited.

Geralt’s steps were so heavy on the stairs and Jaskier swore the sound of them was making him hard. “Little fox, little fox, I’m going to eat you whole.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier prayed. He bit his lip and watched the door. He wondered if he had time to bar it. He stood and dove for a chair in the corner but before he could pick up it, Geralt actually kicked the door open. Honest to god put his foot to it and pushed it open. “Well, at least you didn’t use aard,” Jaskier muttered and went quiet at the look in Geralt’s eyes. “Hello, my love.”

“No, there is no love right now,” Geralt warned him.

“Except you know, you do love me,” Jaskier grinned at him. “Hey what’s that over there?” He pointed but Geralt didn’t look, just stalked closer. “You know I was joking about finding a cat, right?” Jaskier because to back up a step for each one that Geralt took closer to him. “You do know that right?” He took another step and was against the wall. “Right?” He didn’t gulp, he would swear to his dying day. The heat in Geralt’s eyes was killing him. He had that determined fuck you up look he got on a hunt but it wasn’t about killing a monster, it was about fucking him. There was one quirked eyebrow to confirm this was what Jaskier wanted and he gave the tiniest nod and then in the next blink Geralt was against him.

“Fuck,” Jaskier shouted as his head was yanked back mercilessly and Geralt’s teeth were sinking into his shoulder and then lapping at the mark. Jaskier could smell a hint of blood and was rock hard.

“Who do you belong to?” Geralt growled as he looked him dead in the eye.

Jaskier grinned savagely. “Myself,” he challenged. Geralt gave him an answering grin and then slapped him hard.

“Wrong answer, little fox,” Geralt told him, and Jaskier groaned. “Who do you belong to?”

This time Jaskier didn’t answer him, just glared at him, daring him to do something. 

That something seemed to be tear his clothes off. In a minutes his shirt was nothing more than rags, his trousers wrecked and he hadn’t exactly been wearing small clothes. “Jaskier, I think you have lost the privilege of clothes for a while.”

“Excuse me?” Jaskier kicked his shin which just made Geralt laugh. “It’s winter in the extreme north, I cannot walk around a keep that is missing walls, without clothes.”

“Yes, you can, and you will,” Geralt growled. “I want to see what is mine all the time. Good little foxes get to wear their pretties, you are not a good little fox.” Jaskier pouted at him, but definitely was intrigued by the idea. “Just for a few days,” Geralt said. “Though if you were to say you were mine perhaps I’d allow you…a shirt.”

“Oh so my ass can be on cold chairs?”

“You’d be in my lap the whole time,” Geralt replied. “I’d keep you plenty warm.”

Jaskier shivered a bit at that. “Oh. Maybe I can be good?”

“I really fucking hope not,” Geralt picked him up and pressed him against the stone. “Who do you belong to?”

“I dunno, Geralt, who do I belong to?” Jaskier asked. The stone was cold against his hot skin, and he wrapped his legs around Geralt.

“How about I show you?” Geralt suggested and then sank his teeth into his shoulder on the other side.

“Good idea,” Jaskier managed to squeak. He cleared his throat. “If you think you can.” Those teeth sank harder into his shoulder and it felt so good, between that and the bruises he could already feel forming on his thighs from Geralt’s hands. He was then thrown hard onto the furs, his bones jarred and it hurt and it hurt more when Geralt pressed down on him covered him from head to toe. They were of a similar height but he felt so small and fragile in that moment. The bites started up again, sucking kisses down his spine that he tried to both arch into and pull away from. Not that he could move much, Geralt had him gripped so tightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” Geralt asked and Jaskier didn’t answer, which meant that teeth sank into the roundest part of his ass, and he was absolutely never going to answer if being silent kept Geralt doing this. Then a few hard swats were delivered to where the bite had been left and it stung so much.

He wanted more.

Jaskier was rolled over and he looked up at Geralt, whose eyes glowed. He couldn’t stop the smile that grew over his face and fuck but he enjoyed the huff that Geralt gave him. Geralt moved up his chest and Jaskier opened his mouth. There were no words, because Geralt just started fucking his face. His own hand bracing on stone, the other buried in Jaskier’s hair. Geralt wasn’t giving a damn about Jaskier’s throat because he didn’t have to worry about his voice at the keep, and he wasn’t doing anything but using Jaskier as a fuck toy. 

It felt so damn good to be used by Geralt. It hurt in the best possible ways, as Geralt picked up speed, thrusted into his mouth. Jaskier at first tried to be helpful, suck, use his tongue, something, but he was just too overwhelmed. He relaxed his jaw, didn’t care how much he was drooling over himself, just let Geralt go. He knew Geralt’s body enough that when there was this particular grunt it meant the witcher was close and he waited for the man to come down his throat. He whined as Geralt’s cock was pulled out of his mouth. He tried to chase it but Geralt held him in place.

“Who do you belong to?”

Jaskier just whined, not focused on anything but wanting Geralt’s cock back in his mouth. But Geralt just dropped him and his head fell back onto the furs. Jaskier kept his mouth open as Geralt’s hand worked, finishing himself off. But the man didn’t come in Jaskier’s mouth but over his cheeks, neck, a bit on his chest. Jaskier kept his mouth open because now Geralt would push it all in. But he didn’t. “Geralt?”

“Let’s go,” Geralt growled and pulled him up.

Jaskier’s hand started to reach down to his own cock but was swatted away. He tried to growl at Geralt, he wanted to come too, but he got a light slap on the cheek. “Coming is for good little foxes who know whom they belong to.”

“Can we at least clean me up?”

“No,” Geralt’s hand gripped his hair so hard, it hurt. “You’ll smell like me, until you say you are mine.”

“So I have to walk around Kaer Morhen, naked and covered in your come?”

“Yes,” Geralt said calmly and had Jaskier up over his shoulder as they headed down from the tower back to their room. 

Jaskier was barely let go of all day, and he loved it. They didn’t leave their bed, Geralt bit him all over, marked him up, he had been come on at least twice more, and it was all just hazy because Geralt hadn’t let him come at all. He also hadn’t fucked him properly yet, and Jaskier wanted that but apparently it was something else he wasn’t going to get until he said he was Geralt’s.

“Dinner soon,” Geralt said.

“Down to the pools to clean me up then,” Jaskier said.

“No,” Geralt picked him up, because after the chase in the morning, he hadn’t moved under his own steam, like Geralt was worried he would go somewhere. 

“Geralt I cannot go to supper completely covered in your come.”

“Yes, you can, unless you say you are mine,” Geralt’s smile had the light shining off his teeth. “Who do you belong to, little fox?”

Jaskier didn’t answer, just rested his head against Geralt’s shoulder. He ignored the sniffs and smirks from the other wolves, and when he moved to go to his own chair, Geralt growled and nipped at his neck. But staying put wasn’t so bad, because it seemed that Geralt was going to feed him, and he rather liked that. Jaskier stayed rested against Geralt as he was fed morsels, as a goblet was pressed to his mouth, but whenever he squirmed, Geralt’s fingers bruised his hips. He pouted up at Geralt.

“No sex in the dining hall remember?” Geralt said.

Jaskier growled a bit. “Think you skirted the line a bit making me come down like this,” he gestured to himself.

Lambert snickered. “Come,” he snickered some more and Eskel smacked him up the head.

Vesemir’s eyebrows were up. “Jaskier does have a point, Geralt. You are skirting the line.”

Geralt shrugged, “No engagement of cocks is happening,” he pointed out. 

Vesemir pointedly looked and Jaskier flushed a bit at Vesemir’s gaze on his half hard cock. “Really?”

“Not touching it or doing anything but feeding Jaskier.” Geralt held a piece of bread up and Jaskier chewed it. “And nothing more is going to happen anyways.”

“What?” Jaskier stared at him in horror.

“Well if you aren’t mine, I guess I don’t have to stop you from dying. I thought we mattered to each other, were something…important but -”

Jaskier’s eyes widen. “No, wait I thought we were playing a game. Geralt, how can you -” and then he got a good look at the man’s face, at the smirk on Geralt’s face. “Oh you bastard, I’m never saying it now.” He stuck out his tongue at Geralt. “That was a mean trick, you bastard.”

“Never saying it hmm?”

“Never ever saying it,” Jaskier swore. 

“You swear?”

“On my honour as a bard I am never declaring what you are asking.” Jaskier ignored how everyone snorted at that. Now he had a point to prove dammit. The game was changed now, but he was very eager to play.

“One more time, just confirm for me that you will never say that you are mine.” Geralt’s eyes had that gleam again.

“I solemnly so swear,” Jaskier said.

“Very well then,” Geralt stood up, and Jaskier was over his shoulder. “Eskel, Lambert, willing to help me break him?”

Oh shit.

“I think I could help,” Eskel agreed.

Lambert just stood and nodded.

“He gets a couple days off after whatever you get up to tonight,” Vesemir warned and shit Jaskier knew he was in for it if Vesemir was suggesting that. 

“Of course,” Geralt agreed. Jaskier found himself carried off but not in the direction of their room, somewhere else entirely. They all paused at a door.

“In here, really?” Lambert sounded surprised and Jaskier was very nervous and very intrigued.

“An interesting choice,” Eskel said as he opened a door. 

Jaskier was brought upright, and in a second found himself bound, wrists in manacles above his head. He looked at the three witchers, not daring to look around the room. He met Geralt’s eyes. “Never ever,” he swore.

“Let’s just see about that,” Geralt’s voice was dark and rich. Terrifying. And Jaskier wanted more.

Lambert went and slammed the door shut, the room was now in darkness, and Jaskier waited for whatever was next.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rough group sex, possessive sex, sensory deprivation - it is dungeon sex to overwhelm jaskier into saying he belongs to geralt

“Geralt?”

Geralt could hear the hesitance in Jaskier’s voice, but he smelled far more of arousal than fear. There was just a small bit of waning light from the small opening at the top of the room, enough for the witchers to see clearly, but Jaskier could maybe at most make out their shapes. And soon when it would be full dark, well they could take cat and be fine, but it put Jaskier in the dark, no need for blindfolds. “I’m here, the three of us are, and we aren’t leaving the room until you agree that you are mine.”

“Guess we’re stuck here forever then,” Jaskier said, and Geralt loved the determination in his voice. And he loved even more that he was going to break it.

Lambert laughed and it even made Geralt shiver a bit, at how cruel it sounded. He could see Lambert’s hand close around Jaskier’s throat. “I have a damn comfortable bed, and Geralt might like indulging you, but I am not spending all night in this dungeon. You’re going to break in a couple hours.”

Geralt watched Lambert’s hand press on Jaskier’s throat, so close to cutting off breath but not quite doing so. He didn’t have to hide his face, Jaskier couldn’t see it, so he grinned, as Eskel went over and began to softly stroke Jaskier’s cock. “Be nice, asshole, he’s had a rough day. Geralt has the poor man all mixed up and feeling too much. If it takes him all night, even days for him to be able to say what is in his heart, we’ll wait and help him along.”

“Fuck, stop, not allowed to come until I say the thing I am not going to say.” Jaskier was arching, leaning into the touches and he looked amazing his arms stretched up over his head. They need to manacle him more, string him up; it painted a hell of a picture. With the last sliver of light, Geralt went over to the chests in the corner. Took a moment to find the right one, but he was able to tell the cat potions by feel of bottle. He drank half a bottle, all he’d need for a while and took a couple to where Eskel and Lambert were taunting Jaskier. Lambert cutting off his air, Eskel’s gentle strokes on Jaskier’s aching cock. 

Geralt kissed Eskel, and then held the potion to his lips, did the same for Lambert. He ran a finger down Jaskier’s nose. “Change of plan little fox. You can come whenever you need to, don’t even need to ask.”

“That’s a trap,” Jaskier whimpered, and Lambert cut off his air again, as Eskel sank to his knees.

Geralt guided Jaskier’s cock into Eskel’s mouth and Lambert let go of Jaskier’s throat.

“Not at all. Just enjoy. You’ll take whatever Eskel and Lambert do to you. And I’ll be over there watching.” Geralt kissed the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “Or maybe I’ll be close, so close but you won’t be able to see me. Maybe feel my breath, hear what I whisper, but that is it, because I am not going to touch you again, until you say you are mine.” Geralt stepped back. “Have fun with him,” Geralt said. There was a bench and he moved it a bit, a few feet away from Jaskier. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, but Geralt didn’t answer.

“Sorry, he’s checked out, you are stuck with us,” Lambert’s laugh was dark, and so rich. Geralt adored the contrasts in Lambert that he could sound like that but then some nights be his sweet baby. But baby never played in this room, it scared him too much. “Eskel stop being so nice to him. He doesn’t deserve it.” Lambert’s hand squeezed Jaskier’s throat again. “He gets to be the lucky bastard who belongs to Geralt, and isn’t willing to acknowledge that? Jaskier doesn’t deserve nice.” Lambert started biting him hard, and Geralt enjoyed Jaskier’s moans.

“It is a difficult thing to have what you always dreamed of,” Eskel chided, “he is allowed to be nervous about what that truly means. It is all fine and understandable sweet one, to need some time to say those words, we’ll help you relax so you can save them. How about you come in my mouth won’t that relax you, make you feel better?”

“I -” Jaskier gasped as his breath was cut off. Lambert eased his hand away. 

“Geralt, oil?” Geralt obligingly tossed a vial to Lambert who caught it easily.

“How did you do that?” Jaskier asked.

“Oh we all took cat,” Geralt explained, “I can see what they are doing to you perfectly. I can see how every each of you is stretched out with your arms above you like that, toes straining to stand. You can do it, but it is work, and soon your limbs will ache. But you’ll forget that ache, because they are going to make you ache in such other ways.” Jaskier small and needy whimper had Geralt undoing his trousers and he started to stroke his cock, slowly, relishing the feel, he was in no rush. 

It was heady to watch Eskel being so gentle and Lambert so hard on Jaskier. His little fox was so torn about who to lean towards, but he tried to arch away from both, when Lambert picked up one leg and with barely any warning pushed one slick finger into Jaskier. Jaskier keened and threw his head back and with how his arms were stretched above his head, it was beautiful. 

Eskel turned cruel as well, his head stopped moving so he was more cock warming than sucking Jaskier off, while Lambert’s fingers opened Jaskier up. Lambert was pushing Jaskier hard, and the man was panting, begging. For less, for more. 

“Lambert, be nice,” Geralt ordered.

“Sure,” Lambert agreed, and three fingers were pushed into Jaskier. “There you go, let’s stroke your prostate hmm, let you come in Eskel’s mouth. Or you can paint him, like Geralt’s been painting you all damn day.” Geralt watched Lambert but didn’t have the best angle to watch those fingers almost but never truly hurt Jaskier with their stretch and stroke. But that was fine, there was so much else to watch. “I dunno, though, Geralt said you are allowed to come, but I don’t think you deserve it.”

“Not yours to say,” Geralt reminded him. Lambert was grinning at him, clearly having a great time. “Fuck him Lambert so that your thrusts push him into Eskel’s mouth. As hard as you want, use him while he hangs there.”

“You are so good to me,” Lambert said. “Think all that good could be focused on you, Jaskier, if only you said you were his.”

“Never,” Jaskier snarled. “I can out stubborn witchers any fucking day.”

“Let’s find out,” Lambert bit into his shoulder until it bled and moved Jaskier’s legs, and without any other aid, pushed into Jaskier. Geralt wondered if the scream Jaskier let out was about the bite or Lambert’s cock that had only been barely oiled. He breathed in and there was no scent of injury or fear. Just an overwhelming around of arousal. Lambert set a brutal pace, and Jaskier’s body was just jerking where it hung, his cock pressing into Eskel’s lax mouth. It was a gorgeous tableau. 

“Don’t come in him, Lambert, just on him. I want him to smell of both of you when he says that he is mine. Body marked by you both, heart all mine,” Geralt said. “I like the contrast.”

Jaskier’s gasp suggested he liked that idea as well. He want them move, and knew the moment that Jaskier’s orgasm broke over him, his body frozen, a strangled cry from his lips. Lambert pulled out and jerked off all over Jaskier’s ass. 

“Good,” Geralt praised and there was a look in Lambert’s eyes, a wild, worried thing. This was enough that if they weren’t careful he could tip over into baby, and no one wanted that. “You bastard,” he added. “I think move him to the table?”

Lambert nodded and moved the manacles from the hook, brought Jaskier’s arms down. The bard collapsed to the ground, gasped. 

“Geralt?”

“Yes, is there something you’d like to say?”

“That all you boys got?”

Lambert had to choke off the laugh that wanted to break out.

There was nothing on the whole of the continent as good as his Jaskier. “Well I was going to have Eskel carry you to the table and be nice to you, but now you can crawl over there.”

“I can’t see a fucking thing,” Jaskier snarled. “And my hands are manacled together."

“Eskel give him some directions. Each time he goes wrong, means you’ll spank him three times,” Geralt said. “With whatever implement you want.”

“He’ll give me wrong directions!”

“No, not wrong, but not easy.” Geralt left his cock along and crossed his arms. “He gives great directions, generally.”

“Thank you,” Eskel nodded at the praise. “East by North East 32 degrees.”

“I don’t know which way is even north to try,” Jaskier growled.

“Guess,” Lambert said. “And you know what, your ass felt good enough, a little clue.” Geralt watched him move and sit on the table. “I am right now sitting on the table.”

Jaskier tilted his head and then hesitantly moved in a direction that was close but not quite right. “That’s three hits,” Geralt said. He watched Jaskier over correct. “Three more, I should warn you, that Eskel takes spanking very seriously. He won’t go kindly on you.”

“Fuck you,” Jaskier snarled.

“Would that get you to say you are mine, if I let you fuck me?” Geralt asked. The whole room went quiet at the image of Jaskier fucking him. “Would you say you were mine if I were to slowly open myself up? Would you give me the words if Eskel and Lambert held you down, and I slowly took your pretty cock into my body? What would you say if I rode you, slow, steady, rolling my hips? What words would cross your lips? I’d be so damn tight around you. Barely prep myself because I’d want the sting, to really feel it since it happens so rarely. You know why I don’t let you fuck me, Jaskier? Because I have an incredibly sensitive prostate. I ride your cock I’d be done quicker than you were with the first whore you bedded. I’d be crying out your name as I spilled all over your chest, as I clenched around you. Would that get you to say you are mine?” Geralt asked. 

The air was so thick with arousal it hurt. “I don’t -”

“Just a little to the left,” Eskel said, and crawl forward.

“Whoops, missed your chance to say you’re mine and have that,” Geralt said. Jaskier groaned and Geralt enjoyed the agony of loss in that sound a bit too much. “Keep crawling, little fox.”

“Will I ever have that?” Jaskier asked as he crawled.

“Maybe, we’re going to have a long time together, who knows?” Geralt looked to Eskel. “He has six swats,” he said as Jaskier reached the table. He was hauled up by Lambert, who rubbed his cock against Jaskier’s lips and Jaskier immediately began to suck the length back to hardness. “And if you bite Lambert while you get those swats, you will be strung back up and whipped.”

Eskel waited until he saw Geralt’s nod and then his hand flew. The six swats were only a little lighter than he would have given Lambert and happened in such quick succession his hand was almost a blur. He didn’t wait, just slicked up his cock and pressed into Jaskier as the man cried and sucked Lambert’s cock. Geralt stood up and went over. He crouched next to Jaskier. “You had wanted blindfold, but the darkness in here works. How long could a creature like you survive in the dark, Jaskier? What if we just left you in here. A pot in the corner, maybe a pitcher of water. One of us would show up and you’d just drop to your knees mouth open, because you know that if you ever want to be free, you have to be a perfect fuck toy for us. I’ve seen you walk in the sun, Jaskier. You are a flower - all this dark, you’d go mad in just a few days. Sanity only returning when you ride one of our cocks.” 

Geralt moved his fingers, so close to wiping away Jaskier’s tears but not actually doing it. The bard was so sunk, completely lost in them, but that core of strength that always left Geralt in awe, still holding steady. He leaned in. “I almost don’t want you to say you are mine, just to see them break you, just to leave you here in the dark. Until you are no longer human, until you are a fuck shell and nothing more.” Geralt’s lips almost were against Jaskier’s ear but not touching. “And you would love that, you pathetic, needy, little animal.”

Geralt stood up and kissed both Lambert and Eskel, and started to go back to the bench.

“I’m yours,” Jaskier said after he pulled off Lambert’s cock. “Geralt, please, I’m yours. Always. Forever, I’m yours. Mine mine mine,” he begged.

“Hold him up, gently,” Geralt ordered and gestured. Eskel pulled out of Jaskier and Lambert undid the manacles with the secret release in them. They both put their shoulders under Jaskier and raised him up a bit. Geralt slicked up his cock and moved close. He lifted Jaskier’s legs around him and pressed steadily in, Jaskier suspended in the air between the three witchers. Geralt rolled his hips and each thrust in Jaskier babbled that he belonged to Geralt. 

Geralt didn’t hurt him, but didn’t take his time, just took from Jaskier what he wanted. He knew the other two were rock hard, Jaskier’s need and tears lighting a fire in all of them. Geralt pulled almost all the way out and then pressed in, again and again, and Jaskier’s limbs were too numb, he couldn’t keep his legs around Geralt, so Geralt’s hands were bruising the bard’s thighs, holding him up. “Say it, little fox,” Geralt begged.

“I’m yours,” Jaskier swore.

“I’m yours too,” Geralt promised and he pressed deep, coming inside Jaskier. He slid out and took Jaskier from the other two and the man was completely limp, exhausted. “Just a little more,” he whispered. He knelt Jaskier on the ground, and knelt behind him to hold him up. He held Jaskier’s head steady. “Cant they both come on you, let you swallow just a little, because you are a little bit theirs too, at least in winter.”

Jaskier gave a small nod, and opened his mouth.

Geralt watched Lambert and Eskel, kiss and stroke each other until their breath grew heavy, until Geralt could smell how close they were. “A bit more, Jaskier,” Geralt pressed his jaw down, opening his mouth wide for the other wolves. 

Their come splashed across Jaskier’s face and neck, some landing in his mouth, some landing on Geralt. Geralt pushed what was on Jaskier’s cheeks to his lips and into the bard’s mouth. “Lick me clean,” and Geralt smiled at the small kitten licks that dragged across his stubble. “Such a good little fox. My good little fox,” he praised and cat was starting to fade, but he could see the blissed out smile on Jaskier’s face.

“Your’s,” Jaskier agreed and passed out.

“Fuck, we did too much,” Lambert cursed.

“No, he’s fine, just overwhelmed from the day,” Geralt promised. “He’s wanted this much for a long time but I denied him, worried he couldn’t take it. He’ll definitely have a couple days of cuddles and spoiling.” Geralt stood and picked him up. “Help me clean him up?”

There were nods and they all went to the pools under the keep, and Geralt held Jaskier in the water as the other two cleaned him, and then they all went up to Geralt’s room, Jaskier still out though there were occasional twitches that suggested he was debating surfacing. Geralt lay in bed and pulled Jaskier on top of him. He ran gentle hands up and down the bard’s back and Eskel and Lambert sort of hovered at the door. “Just get in the damn bed,” Geralt said. 

He smiled at the speed in which they were joined, everyone needing cuddles after what had transpired. 

“Yours,” Jaskier slurred against Geralt’s skin. A hand sort of flopped about and Eskel claimed it, Lambert put a hand in the small of his back from the other side. “Yours,” Jaskier repeated.

“Yours,” they all replied to him, because for that night it was completely true.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So in this one we have Lambert and Jaskier in happy loving subspace and playing dress up, and Geralt and Eskel watching them play and having gentle sex while they do so. 
> 
> A note about baby. it isn't really age play, more that in subspace, lambert is just free of all the anger and concerns and just sort of lives in a simpler and happier place where he can do what makes him feel pretty and good.

“Hello there,” Geralt ran a finger down Lambert’s nose. 

“Hi,” Lambert moved so he was sitting up in Geralt’s lap. “Your hair looks nice today.”

“Thank you, Jas insisted on braiding it, I think it looks a bit silly.” Geralt was kneading Lambert’s ass, soothing the ache he had put there, but it wasn’t too much of an ache, Lambert had went down in less than a dozen hits, the fastest he had even gone down. The man really wanted to play with his new friend. 

“Not silly, but does that mean I can’t play with you?” Lambert was pouting a little bit, and Geralt had to run his finger down Lambert’s nose again. 

“What sort of playing, because I don’t want to take any of your time away that you and Jas will have.”

“Don’t we have all afternoon?” 

That was a bit of a surprise, Lambert only ever stayed down a couple of hours, but he had also never had anyone to play with before. Not like this. “You have as long as the two of you will want, but I want someone always keeping an eye on you, baby,” Geralt said firmly. Vesemir was currently bringing Jaskier down a bit because they both wanted to be in their happy head space, but with both of them down, Geralt wanted someone with them, in case there was any dropping or baby and Jas got into a fight, or needed anything. 

“You?”

“Me, and Eskel is maybe making a treat for the two of you,” Geralt smiled at the way Lambert lit up.

“Biscuits?”

“I don’t know, he just said a surprise. For good boys, which I know you and Jas will be won’t you?” Geralt received a swift nod. “His tush is still a bit sore so you can’t be putting anything in his bum, do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir,” Lambert gave him the most solemn eyes. “But it won’t stop us from playing with the secret chest will it?”

“No, you two can play with that as much as you want,” Geralt promised. He kissed Lambert and enjoyed the way that the witcher just sank against him. They were in Lambert’s room, which wasn’t as large as Geralt’s but Lambert was going to feel safest in here, with what he wanted to do, and that safety would also help him stay down. Lambert was squirming on Geralt’s lap and Geralt pressed a teasing hand down on his cock. “You wanting to play something else while we wait for Jas?”

The poor man looked so torn between Geralt and waiting for Jaskier, and Geralt couldn’t torture him. “How about we open the chest, and get a few things out?”

“You know what he’d liked to play with?”

“I have a good idea,” Geralt smiled and nudged Lambert towards the chest. Geralt was a bit curious what might be in there, he had only seen in it a couple times and that was years ago now. He crouched next to Lambert as Lambert opened the chest and he was handed a box. “What’s in this, baby?”

“Paints,” Lambert said. “You said he likes it.”

“He does,” Geralt reassured. “Going to paint your lips?” There was a small shrug. “I’d love to see it,” Geralt put the box on the table. “What else? He likes bright things. Blues and greens, even purple.” Geralt faked a shudder. “Who likes purple?”

“I do,” Lambert scowled at him a bit. “Jas would look beautiful in purple.”

“I dunno…” Geralt shook his head. “You have any purple in there?” He watched Lambert dig and pulled out these incredibly sheer sleep pants in purple and fuck they would look stunning on either man. They would drape against skin and hide nothing. “Oh,” he kissed Lambert’s head. “Definitely put those out, what else do you have?”

Lambert looked at him, and then ducked his head. “You could pick? So we look nice for you.”

Baby was such a delight. “But this is your play time, what matters is looking nice for each other. For yourselves.” Geralt spied some red though and pulled it out. A robe, embroidered with flowers down the sleeves, silk and heavy. “You would look incredible in this.” He tossed into onto the bed. “Any jewelry in there?” Lambert nodded and dug through a bit, there was a tin and it had bracelets and chains and other pretty bits and bobs. “Excellent,” Geralt said and put it on the bed. “Now, how about you put on the pretty robe.”

“Shouldn’t I wait for Jas?”

Geralt could hear running, down the halls. “He’ll be here soon, surprise him with how pretty you are.” He reached to pick it up, held the robe open for Lambert. When Lambert turned, Geralt slid it over his shoulders, and then tied the thick gold robe around his waist. He purred a bit. “My pretty, pretty baby.” He would have said more, but there was a crash as Jaskier clearly ran into the door.

“He’s here!” Lambert shouted and ran and opened the door; Geralt choked back his laughter as Jaskier tumbled in and fell on Lambert and they were sort of rolling and exchanging sloppy kisses, until Jas had Lambert pinned.

“Vesemir said I was good FIVE different times,” Jaskier said. He was sitting on Lambert and began to stroke the robe. “This is soft slippy and soft. You look so pretty.”

“I have things for you too. Purple,” Lambert offered. “And jewelry, and face paint?”

“We get to play dress up!” Jaskier was bouncing on Lambert’s lap. “I love playing dress up. I have sooooo many nice clothes back home, but Geralt says I can’t travel with all of them, because they are heavy and take up too much pack space.”

Geralt found two men glaring at him, and he held up his hands for peace. “I just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretties, Jas,” Geralt said. “You get so upset when animals shit on your fancy doublets.” There were more glares. “I’m just going to sit in the corner and read a book. You two play as much as you want. Eskel will bring by a treat in a bit, and later if you want, you two can go swimming in the springs together.” Geralt loved the smiles and cheers that got. He settled into the chair by the fire, put his feet up on a table and opened a book, not that he expected to read much, but it was a pretense to give them a bit of privacy.

Instead he kept glancing at them, and Lambert undressed Jaskier, and helped him into those thin purple pants, but before he pulled them up, he was nuzzling and licking at Jaskier’s cock. It was a bit clumsy, because Lambert was so loose and happy, but Jaskier didn’t seem to mind if the soft gasps he was letting out meant anything. But then Lambert pulled those sheer sleep pants up, and Jaskier looked more deliciously obscene with that fabric covering his half hard cock than when it had been out. 

Geralt moaned a bit, and saw the happy smiles that got from his boys, and they started to move towards him. “No, you two play, I’m just admiring how pretty you two are. Prettiest ever.”

“Nu-uh, you play with sorceresses, they are prettier.” Lambert pointed at his scars. “Not pretty.”

“None of that,” Geralt ordered. “You think Eskel is beautiful don’t you?” Lambert and Jaskier both eagerly nodded. “And Jaskier, show him your scar.” Jaskier held up his arm to show the mark on the inside of his bicep. He melted when Lambert kissed it better. “He’s pretty right?” There was a nod. “Then baby, aren’t you beautiful as well? My pretty baby?”

Jaskier hugged Lambert tight and kissed his scar on his face, the ones on his shoulders. “Prettiest ever. And besides, he hasn’t played with any sorceresses in a while. They are trouble with a capital T.”

They were, and yes he and Jaskier sometimes played with whores together, but generally Geralt’s fascination with sorceresses had wained. “How about you two, have some fun with the paints? Then put on some jewelry, you can show off for Eskel when he brings your treat.” They clearly liked that idea and they went to the table and sat. Lambert carefully pulled out all the things in the box and Jaskier was praising his collection, which made Lambert beam and they stopped for a moment to nuzzle and kiss. Geralt wished he had any talent at all for drawing, because he’d love to sketch how they looked together. Geralt turned a page in his book just to pretend, and then watched as they picked colours to play with. 

He wondered if they would do their own and then show off, but no, Jaskier had a brush in hand and was dipping it into a pot, and adding black around Lambert’s eyes and they were chatting about random things they liked and didn’t like and what made them happy. Lambert then did a bit of what looked almost like silver around Jaskier’s eyes. Lambert’s lips were painted red, almost the same colour as the robe, and Geralt growled when Jaskier’s were painted black.

There were pouts though at the noise he made. “You don’t like it?” Lambert looked ready to cry. 

“Baby, come here,” Geralt moved the book and pat his lap. Lambert hurried over and was astride his thighs. “That was a happy growl, baby. You made Jaskier so fucking beautiful. He looks magical, mysterious. Like the best sort of secret, and it made me hungry.”

“You could have me,” Jaskier offered quickly.

“Another day, today is for the two of you,” Geralt said. “And you,” he ran a finger tip of Lambert’s jawline. “Baby, look at you in your pretty paint, and your sexy little robe. Now you just have to add some jewelry. Do you have something for around your ankle? Bet that would look nice. And something around Jaskier’s neck?” He kissed Lambert’s neck, and then gave a gentle swat to his ass. “Go play.” 

Lambert hurried back over to Jaskier and they dumped out the jewelry box on to the bed and were poking through all the treasures. Most of it was loot that Lambert had found on bandits and pirates and had liked the look enough of not to hock. Soon Jaskier had a cuff on his upper arm, and thin draping chains around his neck. Lambert had a few rings on, and something around his ankle. They pushed the rest off the bed and they couldn’t stop touching each other. Happy, gentle touches, ones that aroused but also just were about how nice it was to be like minded and touching a friend who understood you.

This time Geralt really did read his book, giving them a bit of privacy. He had read a couple chapters, when there was a knock at the door. “I have a treat, if anyone is interested.”

“We are,” both Jas and Lambert shouted.

“Baby, are you sure that you want me to see you?” Eskel asked, knowing how sensitive Lambert was about this.

“Yes, we are all pretty, you need to see,” Lambert called back. They scrambled off the bed, and Geralt did chuckle a little at the way the two of them posed. Eskel came in with a tray, with milk and fresh baked shortbread. “My favourite,” Lambert almost clapped.

“Of course, baby, big play day for you, have to have a treat.” Eskel put the tray on the table, careful of all the make up strewn about. “Now then, let me see you two.” He went over to them. “I have never seen prettier.” Geralt watched them both preen and pose under the praise. “Look at you both, so utterly gorgeous and having fun together?” There were happy noises and nods. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, stay,” Jaskier said.

“Jas?”

“Geralt needs a friend too,” Jaskier insisted.

“He does,” Lambert agreed. “I get to play with Jas, he should get to play with you.”

“Oh should he?” Eskel asked.

Geralt certainly didn’t object to the thought of that. “I should,” he said calmly, and held out a hand. “Some grown up company, would be enjoyable while they are playing. Because Jaskier hasn’t seen all the pretties that baby has in his chest.”

“You have more pretties?” Jaskier spun. “Where, I wanna see?”

“Eat a bit of your snack, and then you can play more,” Geralt reminded them. “Eskel worked hard.” Eskel’s fingers touched his and Geralt pulled him into his lap. “Eskel deserves to play a bit too, for working so hard for the boys.”

“I do?” Geralt saw Eskel search his face, and the man must have liked what he saw there and smiled a bit. “I do,” Eskel said this time instead of asking. 

“Eskel, I have blue stockings that would look pretty on you,” Lambert offered.

“That is very sweet baby, but I think I’m going to be getting naked, not putting stuff on.”

Geralt began to kiss Eskel, slow, languid press of lips and tongue, because there was no rushing, no hurry in that room today. They kissed and touched through clothes, while Lambert and Jaskier ate their snack and went back to playing with what they found in the chest. Geralt nudged and Eskel stood. They undressed and Geralt angled the chair so that they could watch Lambert and Jaskier easily. Eskel settled on his lap and Geralt loved the weight of him. Eskel was the thickest of them all, corded muscles with a layer over top and Geralt relished it all pressed against him. He watched Lambert put Jaskier loosely into a corset, and then Jaskier was rolling stocking up Lambert’s legs, mindful of the anklet.

“Look at how pretty they are,” Geralt whispered as he stroked his hands over Eskel’s chest and stomach. Eskel knew that Geralt was strong enough and just let go, fully pressed himself against Geralt. “So nice to watch them play isn’t it?”

“Never get to see Lambert like this,” Eskel said. “Have Jaskier to thank for that.”

“You can thank him however you want another day, this is for them,” Geralt scraped his nails up Eskel’s thighs. “And this is for us. A pretty show, while we have a pretty fuck.”

Eskel laughed a bit at that. “What’s pretty about us?”

“Enough,” Geralt said. He began to lightly stroke Eskel’s cock. “You have the best cock of all of us.” 

“Geralt -”

“It’s true,” Geralt replied. He watched Lambert and Jaskier start to kiss, playing dress up abandoned for other sorts of activities. He gave a light whistle and Lambert looked over. “Oil, baby? So I can work Eskel open?”

Lambert pulled a jar out of his table. “Not oil, thick, goes thinner when you warm it. Sorceress gave it to me. Feels a bit tingly.”

“Thank you, baby,” Geralt said. “Remember nothing in Jaskier’s bum.”

“I know,” Lambert swore and scowled a bit, “I’m a good boy.”

“No, sweet one, you are the best boy,” Geralt praised. “That was more so that when he tried to convince you he was fine, you’d remember he wasn’t.” Lambert was appeased and went back to the bed. Geralt opened the jar and pulled a bit of the thick substance out. It did tingle against his fingers a bit. He pressed a finger to Eskel’s hole, and enjoyed the way the man moaned. “Good?”

“Yes,” Eskel replied and his legs opened as much as they could. Geralt pressed a finger in, just as he saw Jaskier open baby’s robe and start kissing his way down. “Look at the pretty boys.”

“So pretty,” Geralt agreed and kissed Eskel’s shoulder. He moved his finger in and out of Eskel, adding a second, and Eskel was squirming on his lap, which was making Geralt ache. He fingered Eskel, in no rush and enjoyed watching the way that Jaskier began to suck Lambert’s cock. “Is it good, baby?”

“He looks so pretty, kissing my dick,” Lambert giggled a bit. “It feels so good. He’s the best at this.”

“Jas is,” Geralt agreed. “You just enjoy your playmate, baby. And I’ll enjoy mine.” He smiled a bit at the dreamy look on Lambert’s face. “They are so cute together.”

“More, Geralt,” Eskel pleaded. “Watching them, your fingers inside me, killing me.”

“Well now, we can’t have a witcher dying of sexual desire, can we?” Geralt teased. He pressed a third finger in and watched Lambert tug Jaskier up, and their sweet ones, were just kissing each other, touching each other’s cocks, and saying how pretty the other was, and how fun it was to play together. “Fuck, they are so soft together.”

“It is a gift to see,” Eskel was stroking his cock. “I’m ready, Geralt.”

Geralt pulled out his fingers and slicked up his cock, stroking a bit, and the stuff did tingle in an interesting way. Eskel shifted on his lap, lifted up. Geralt held his cock steady, and let Eskel sink down at his own pace. Once he was all the way down, they just sat still for a moment, watched as Jaskier and Lambert stroked each other off. Eskel rose a bit and sank down. The pace stayed slow and gentle, Eskel rolled his hips and Geralt touched what he could of the man. 

“You’re my new best friend, Jas,” Lambert could be heard to say.

“I love you baby, so much, most fun I’ve had in so long, but shh don’t tell Geralt that. He might get jealous.”

“Not in the least, Jas,” Geralt promised. “I like that you have baby to play with. You two can have as much fun as you want this winter. And come spring we’ll all see what other pretties we can buy you two to play with, won’t we, Eskel?” He ran a hand down the man’s back.

“You would look so pretty baby, in one of those sort of velvet capes with the fur on the colour. Love to buy you one.”

Lambert bit his lip. “Really, even though I’ve never -”

“It is all fine, baby, I’m grateful you let me in today,” Eskel promised and Geralt loved him for it. His hands squeezed Eskel’s hips and Eskel picked up the pace a bit. He fucked himself on Geralt’s cock, and Lambert and Jaskier were now holding each other close and just sort of grinding their cocks together. Geralt pressed his forehead in between Eskel’s shoulder blades, and just let himself enjoy the soft and happy feelings in the room, he completely let go of any thoughts or tension, and just enjoyed. The orgasm was a slow roll through his system, one that he felt even in the tips of his toes. He brought his hand to Eskel’s cock and they finished him off together.

They could hear the moans on the bed as Jaskier came, and eased down the bed to put his lips around Lambert’s cock, sucking the tip until Lambert spilled in his mouth. Eskel and Geralt cleaned themselves up and watched the two on the bed fall asleep. Eskel gathered the jewelry on the floor, Geralt put the make up away, and they tidied all the clothes away back into the chest. Geralt settled on the bed, and wrapped an arm over Lambert, who wiggled back against him. 

“I had fun.”

“I am glad, baby,” Geralt kissed his head, and watched Eskel come in on the other side to cuddle Jaskier so that both the sweet ones were cuddled and would have an anchor as they came back up after the nap.

“Next time we’ll play in the pools.” Lambert yawned and fell asleep.

“Sounds lovely.” Geralt and Eskel talked quietly while the other two slept, everyone in the room feeling perfectly content with their little world.


End file.
